Author Commentary: I was in a really bad place when I wrote this... I'm sorry if the characters seem a little OOC, but I just needed to write because it helped me out of my bad mood... It just so happens that poor Matt ended up being who my frustration was taken out on. Also, its rating is for graphic scenes, but I am adding a smut chapter, for those who want it.
Title: Making Them Remember
Characters: Matthew/Canada, Gilbert/Prussia
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.
Warning: Attempted suicide, bloody scenes
"Why doesn't anyone notice me?" Matthew said aloud to no one in particular, looking in the mirror of the boys' bathroom. He had gotten up in the middle of class and walked right out the door without saying a word to anyone or having anyone say anything to him. Even his own parents and brother forgot about him sometimes... So who would miss him if he were to just disappear one day?
No one, that's who. Matthew could feel the tears slide down his cheeks. He willed them to go away, but they just wouldn't stop. Sobbing harder, his body shaking, he sank to the filthy bathroom floor—who knows when the last time it was cleaned? He moved until he was sitting under the leaking sink in a puddle of dirty... hopefully it was water... but he didn't really care. It's not like anyone would notice, let alone care that he was wet. The water was slowly dripping from the pipe above him and each drop hit his head. The little Canadian couldn't stop a violent shudder from coursing through his small body.
Maybe he would just disappear. And maybe once he was gone, people would notice. No... he couldn't just vanish. He'd have to do much better than that. Life would go on as normal if he merely disappeared. Matthew's thoughts continued down this path, slowly getting darker.
Finally, he had snapped. After all the years of putting up with being ignored and just letting himself fade into the background, he was going to get people to notice him. He'd put up with this for far too long. He didn't care if he wasn't around when they finally noticed him, so long as they did. And not by mistaking him for his brother, either. The two of them looked nothing alike and Alfred was far denser than Matthew! Scrambling to his feet, Matt looked in the mirror and sure enough, it was his own reflection that looked back at him, not Alfred's. He didn't want to see it, though, so he slammed his fist into the mirror, shattering his reflection. He barely felt the glass that was piercing his hand as he pulled a particularly large shard down and then moved to sit back in his puddle.
Once he was settled into that spot, he gripped the shard in his right hand. The jagged edges broke through his skin, and his pupils dilated as adrenaline rushed through his veins, survival instinct trying to take over and tell him to quit. He ignored that, though, and told himself that he didn't care anymore. Slowly, he ran the end of the fragment of glass along the smooth skin of his forearm. Shivering at the feeling, he kept going until one long, red, shallow cut ran the length of his arm. He moved back to the start of the cut and pushed in again, deepening the cut. Red blood oozed from the cut and the warm liquid trickled down his arm to mix with the murky water beneath him.
Eventually, he left the deep cut and carved his name into the skin above it. Now no one could possibly forget him. Black blurred the edges of his vision as he carved the final s of his last name. Then, his hand went slack around the shard and it fell out of his hand, which dropped limply down into his lap. A moment after that, he had completely passed out, lack of blood finally getting to him. With the luck he had and how invisible he seemed to be to everyone else, he would probably bleed to death before somebody found him. Whoever did surely would not forget the sight of a dead body on the bathroom floor, which was covered in water mingled with blood. The sight would be traumatizing.
For once, Gilbert had actually gotten a pass out of class. He only half had to use the bathroom. The other half of his reason for leaving was to go find that cute Canadian boy who sits in the front. Gilbert had watched him leave and was rather surprised that he didn't even attempt to ask for permission. But then he noticed that the kid looked really upset. Though he wouldn't admit it aloud, Gilbert was worried. Matthew was a good kid who never just got up and left. Even though most people tended not to notice him, for some reason, Gilbert did notice. For that very reason, he felt compelled to go and make sure that Matt was okay.
But first he had to piss. He couldn't concentrate on finding Matt if he was too busy concentrating on how full his bladder was. Pushing the bathroom door, he walked in only to stop dead. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. At first, he couldn't even get his mind to work, then he grabbed his phone out of his pocket—so much for not being allowed to have cell phones at school—and called the emergency number. He did his best to keep his cool as he gave them the information of what he had found.
Finished with the call, he pocketed the phone and pulled off his shirt. Kneeling next to Matt's still body, he pressed the shirt over the wound on Matt's left arm, trying to stop the bleeding. Putting the fingers of his free hand to Matt's neck, he finally took the pulse and what he found was faint and fluttering.
"Don't die on me," he said, glancing in horror at all the red liquid around the body and his very own knees. He wasn't sure what was blood and what was water, all he knew was that there was a lot of red.
Nervously, he waited for the paramedics to arrive. After what seemed like forever, they rushed in and shooed Gilbert out of the way. Once Matt was loaded up, Gilbert held the door open for them.
Students were crowding the halls and not moving out of the way fast enough for Gilbert's liking. He walked ahead of the paramedics and started shouting, "Move the fuck out of the way, you idiots! Can't you see someone's hurt? If you don't move, his death is on your hands!"
The students started scattering, pressing against the lockers to get out of the way. They weren't a hundred percent sure what was going on, but they could see a shirtless Gilbert with bloodied trouser legs, and they could see that Gilbert was worried and that was an emotion that he never showed.
Gilbert watched as they loaded up Matt and climbed into the ambulance, refusing to let Matt out of his sight. He rode in the ambulance to the hospital and tried to follow after they admitted Matt. He was forced to stay in the waiting room when they brought him back to stitch him up and get him stabilized. He wasn't happy about that, but he knew he had to go with it or risk being thrown out and not allowed to see Matt when he is better.
Several nurses came up to Gilbert while he was waiting to see if they could get him something (a shirt perhaps?) or help him clam down, but he didn't even spare them a glance. Instead, he continued pacing around the waiting room, making its other occupants nervous.
Finally, they were done with Matt and Gilbert was allowed to go see him. He walked into the room and saw Matt laying there looking pitiful. The frail Canadian seemed even smaller in that hospital bed. So many tubes and monitors were hooked to him and his bandaged arm and hand were lying on top of the covers. He was so very pale, even paler than usual.
Pulling up a chair, Gilbert sat next to Matt and grabbed the hand that wasn't bandaged. "Oh, Matt... why would you do this to yourself?" He knew Matt was still out, but he couldn't help but ask.
Time ticked by and Gilbert was getting tired. He laid his head down on the bed, still holding Matt's hand, and slowly, he fell asleep.
Next thing Matt knew, he was coming to. His body felt heavy and he felt like he couldn't move. After a bit of work, he got his eyes to open and looked around. At first, all he could see was white, then he looked down and saw that someone was holding the hand of the arm that he'd been cutting. He furrowed his brow, trying to think through the throbbing pain in his arm. The man was familiar, but he couldn't quite place him... and for some reason, he was also shirtless.
A nurse walked in at that moment. "Oh, good!" she exclaimed. "You're up!" She looked thoroughly relieved and a smile lit her face.
"Wh-what happened?" Matt asked unintelligibly.
"That young man saved your life by calling us. He only left your side when we made him and he paced the whole time you were apart. It was making everyone nervous! You two must be really good friends." She the started to check his charts to make sure that he was doing all right.
Matthew could feel his cheeks hear up as he looked down at the man, who he suddenly recognized. Either Gilbert really did care about Matthew or he felt really bad about it and that's why he stayed... but if he didn't care, wouldn't he at least have gone to get a shirt? He didn't realize it, but he'd been unconsciously squeezing Gilbert's hand tighter.
"Ow... Matt, loosen up. You're hurting my hand," Gilbert mumbled, turning his head to look at his hospitalized classmate.
"S-sorry," Matthew replied, even quieter than usual and he hadn't even processed the fact that Gilbert actually used his name. Slowly, Matt loosened his grip on Gilbert's hand.
"It's okay. I'm just glad to see you not passed out in a pool of your own blood."
"I'm sorry that you're the one who had to find me."
"Why'd you do it?" Gilbert asked again, this time to a conscious Matt. A look of mixed anger and sadness was on Gilbert's face. "Why'd you try to kill yourself? You're too amazing to deprive the world of your presence."
Tears sprung to Matthew's eyes as he looked back at Gilbert, suddenly feeling very stupid. "I-I... was sick of no one n-noticing m-me... I f-figured that no one would be able t-to forget being the o-one to find the b-body..." The tears spilled over, chasing one another down his cheeks. He couldn't calm down or stop them, no matter how hard he tried.
Gilbert was glad that the nurse was gone. If she was still in the room, he'd have a lot more trouble comforting Matt. That was what really mattered right now. Carefully, he climbed onto the bed and put a knee on either side of Matt's hips and, careful of the wires and tubes, pulled him into his chest.
Matt felt himself be pulled into Gilbert's chest, so he just went with it. He wrapped his arms around Gilbert and cried into the bare chest in front of him. For some reason, the other's presence was comforting to him. Just being held was helping him to calm down, then a hand started gently rubbing his back and he relaxed further. Soon, he was just sniffling and even that subsided after a few moments, and then Matt was back to normal, except with a wetter face. He didn't want to move, though, so he kept his face pressed against Gilbert's chest.
"S-sorry," Matt said, trying to pull away because he was a little uncomfortable with the salty, wet skin of his face pressed against the salty, wet skin of Gilbert's chest. However, Gilbert just held him tightly, so he had to tell him what the problem was. "J-just let me wipe m-my tears..."
Gilbert didn't let go of him, but grabbed a few tissues, wiping the tears out of Matthew's eyes and then drying off his own chest. "Is that better?" he asked softly.
Matt nodded, making himself comfortable again. He sighed softly, leaning into Gilbert.
The two of them stayed like that for awhile until Gilbert spoke. "Matt... I should probably get off the bed. I'm not a patient."
The fact that Gilbert was using his name finally registered with Matt and he suddenly felt really happy. That feeling left him as the rest of the words sunk in. He didn't want Gilbert's warmth and comfort to leave him and the thought made his eyes go wild with fear and his arms tighten, holding himself tighter to Gilbert, trying not to cry out at the pain it caused.
"Don't hurt yourself," Gilbert said, sounding a bit worried. Matt didn't loosen his arms, so he continued, "You don't need to worry, either. I'll stay here with you. I just don't wanna get in trouble and get kicked out. I plan to stay here with you as much as I can until you are all better. And I swear that I won't ever forget you. Not now, not after you're better, never. I will always remember you."
Matthew let himself be soothed by the words. Slowly, he loosened his grip and then laid back against them pillows.
Gilbert climbed off of him, carefully grabbing his hand and watching until Matt fell back asleep, body and mind too drained to stay awake.
Once Matthew was out again, Gilbert called his friend, Francis. He would have texted, but he only had one hand and he hadn't mastered typing one-handed on his full keyboard phone.
"Bonjour?" came a voice over the phone. There was babble in the background, which indicated that Francis was hanging out after school as usual.
"Do you think you could stop by my house and pick me up a shirt and some pants, then cook me some food and bring it all to the hospital?"
"Oui, mais... I must ask... are you all right?"
"Ja, I'm fine."
"Okay... It might be awhile before I get down there, then... I'm trying to figure out who was killed in the boys' bathroom."
"No one was killed, Francis. The boy attempted suicide. I'm with him. Now please do as I asked." A hint of annoyance colored Gilbert's voice as he explained.
"D'accord... But you know it will still be awhile. My food takes time because it has to be parfait."
"Ja, I know," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'm just hungry and shirtless and my pants are blood-stained, so getting those things at all sounds good."
"I'll go cook now and bring it to you when it's done," Francis replied, then hung up. Gilbert hung up as well, then did his best to relax in the uncomfortable hospital seat.