Author: Twizardck PM
Years ago, Roderich chose the wrong one... And now he is trying to fix it. But is it too late? Three-shot. PruAus. Mentioned AusHun. Rated for mild language and character death. Nyotalia characters in later updates.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Tragedy - Austria & Prussia - Chapters: 3 - Words: 2,382 - Reviews: 13 - Favs: 15 - Follows: 10 - Updated: 06-24-12 - Published: 06-21-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8242109
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The hospital tried to give the false impression of cheer. The name, Saint Michael's Hospital: Emergency and Long-Term Care, was printed in navy blue on a creamy stone background. All around it were flower beds. On some days you could see patients going around on walks and watering the flowers. They would wave to the visitors. These were the patients that were recovering and would be leaving soon.
The receptionist was a nice enough woman. She looked up with a smile, blonde hair pulled back in a clip, fingers pausing on the keyboard which she typed on so diligently and rapidly. She was never away from that computer, except when she was answering the wired phone on the other end of the desk. Her voice was cool and calm and gentle. "No visitors but family," she would purr, twining the phone cord around her finger. "You will have to talk to the overseer."
Room 1701 was in the sixth wing. The door at the entrance of the wing read "fatal diseases – noncontiguous". Mostly it was full of cancer patients with very little hope. They came and went. But not the man in 1701.
"She doesn't look anything like her mother." Gilbert Beilschmidt sat up in his bed, holding the picture he had been given. He pursed his lips and tilted his head, blinking his red eyes slowly as if trying to find any trace of Elizabeta in the little girl depicted. "Nope. No Lizzie in there. You sure she's the mother?"
Roderich nodded a little and took the picture back. "Surprisingly, maternity tests are not all that common. There is no doubt of where the child came from." His lips twitched up as Gilbert rewarded him with one of his trademark laughs, slipping away the photograph. His eyes wandered around the surprisingly bare room. Considering how long the other had been here, Roderich would have thought some part of him had stuck.
Gilbert noticed Roderich looking around and he gestured dramatically. "Welcome to my realm of awesomeness. Though it's currently un-awesome. The nurses took away all my stuff for cleaning. I told them it was fine. But. Y'know." He took a deep breath and fixed Roderich with a stare. "Why are you here, Roddy? You've never come before…"
Looking down at the ground, Roderich fidgeted with something in his pocket. He wet his lips, then opened them, then closed them again, clearly nervous. Finally, he looked back up. "Elizabeta and I are getting divorced," he murmured.
Surprise flickered in Gilbert's eyes and he quickly looked away. "Really? Shocker. Always said that you two couldn't tie the knot. You're the gayest guy I know. Who the hell spends so much time on their hair? Not Lizzie. You like guys, I swear it."
Roderich also looked away, taking a deep breath. "Gilbert… I've finally come to my senses. About you."
Both turned their heads and red eyes met violet. Gilbert suddenly looked just as nervous as Roderich and his gaze moved to the other's pocket. "You… You still have it?"
Roderich nodded just a little, pulling from his pocket a thin gold ring and looking it over, a faint smile on his face. "It was never away from me…"
Gilbert sat up straighter, fingers curling in the blankets of his bed. "You told me you'd never even consider! That it was wrong of me to ask you because we were both guys! Then you turned right around and asked Lizzie, like that was okay!"
Lowering his head, Roderich closed his eyes, taking in a shaky breath. "I was scared, Gilbert. Scared about my parents. Scared about what everyone would think. That was eight years ago… And I regret it so much."
"It doesn't fucking matter if you regret it…" Gilbert turned away, hunched in on himself. "I've been stuck in this room for six years… I'm dying, Roderich. We've lost our chance."
Hesitantly, Roderich went and sat on the edge of the bed. "Gilbert… I've loved you since high school. You know it. You feel the same way. You asked me to marry you once… Now is our chance."
Gilbert turned, slowly, holding out a shaky hand for the ring. When it was pressed into his palm, he closed his fingers and kissed them, eyes closing for the briefest moment. "I searched for days for the right ring… I rehearsed it all. I took you out to that old Italian place behind the theatre, remember? I got us a private table… Got down on one knee… And you ran. So I mailed you the goddamn ring. I got your wedding announcement in return."
"I know," Roderich whispered. "I was wrong. I was so beyond wrong, Gilbert…"
Opening his eyes again, Gilbert stared over at Roderich. "It's wrong of me to ask you this… You're divorcing. You have a five year old daughter. I'm supposed to live two more years, at the most."
Roderich smiled weakly. "Love conquers all."
Nodding slightly, Gilbert reached out and took hold of Roderich's left hand. "And I think I'm dreaming. I've got to think that because I've dreamed about this only a billion times. Though I always figured I would have been out of my hospital gown for it."
Roderich looked down at his hand. "For right now, it's a tuxedo."
Smiling faintly, Gilbert held out the ring, the ring that Roderich had spent countless nights turning over in his fingers, the ring he had almost sent back with a note saying how rude it had been to give to him, but the paper had gotten too tearstained and he hadn't finished. In Gilbert's thin, pale fingers, the ring lit up and shone and spoke of promise. As much promise as he could give.
"Roderich Edelstein… I have thought about you every day for the past eight years. I still love you. And if you will have me now, as I am… Will you marry me?"
There was a suddenly tearful yes and the band was slipped onto Roderich's left ring finger. The two shared a kiss like they hadn't for the past eight years, and all too soon the nurse came in and told Roderich visiting hours were over.
Gilbert left the hospital two weeks later, discharged. There was nothing more they could do for him and he wanted to spend the remaining years of his life with his new husband and daughter.
I should be working on Playing with Fire. I am. I swear. I have most of Roderich's section done. But I have had this three-shot all planned out in my head for a while now... And it's all written. The next section will be up tomorrow. Please review?