Save Me From Myself [Prussia/Austria]

[Königreich Preußen]

Patient: Gilbert Weillschmidt Age: 24 Gender: Male Height/Weight: 5'8'', 130 lbs. Living Relatives: N/A Important Notes: Patient has been transferred because six different hospitals due to disruptive behavior and general disturbance amongst doctors. Patient has often made it a point to be difficult with his on-call medical assistants and shows little to no interest in being given care. Patient often suffers from insomnia and violent nightmares, IVs need to be taped down securely and monitored throughout the night to ensure they are not tugged or ripped out. Patient has suffered from severe physical and mental trauma, but has thus-far refused to give any details of the events that caused this. The only known facts are in the official report. Patient often has a realistic plush chick on person. Becomes violent and angry should the chick be removed from possession, and often talks to it. It is unknown if this is simply a comfort, or perhaps a mental dissension. Patient is fluent in German, French, and English. Often switches between them to confuse doctors. It is also reported he knows some Spanish. Patient displays heavy use of sarcasm. Patient shows violent reactions to certain objects and conditions. Not all are known yet, but seem to include: cold, snow, sunflowers, vodka, unnecessary physical contact, metallic objects being dragged, the Russian language, and binding and/or restraints of any form. Patient does seem to rather enjoy most German and Austrian cuisine, though favours pancakes and is more more agreeable when the last aforementioned is a promised reward. Patient is much physically stronger than looks suggest. More to come in the official report.

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Gilbert looked around his new room with a bored expression. This hospital was different than the ones he'd been to before; he actually had something remotely like a bedroom this time. Alas, he didn't own much, and the furnishings remained bare. Aside from the bed, there was a desk, which had come with the room, and atop it sat a small lamp, and a powerful gaming laptop. A few books in old Prussian and German sat in a neat pile behind the laptop, along with what appeared to be a box filled with journals. Sitting atop the laptop was an MP3 player and a pair of stero headphones. However, the walls and floor were completely bare, though he couldn't bring himself to care. He'd likely be transferred again, anyway.

That's what the doctor's seemed to enjoy doing. When he got too difficult, they'd transfer him to another. That's how it had always been since he was fifteen. He'd been to Prussia, his place of birth, France, Germany, Spain, Italy, and now he was in Austria. It was only a matter of time before he was moved again. Part of him thought of it as a game--to see how long a doctor could last before they got fed-up with him and gave up. He enjoyed it. It helped him forget the loneliness he constantly felt. And it was entertaining, oh-so entertaining.

Snapping his attention away from the bedroom, Gilbert looked toward the door as he heard it open and allowed his trademark smirk to grace his features. His record for being sent to a new location was one week. Time to see if he could break it.[/blockquote][/size]

[Austria]

Roderich had gone over his new patient's chart, medical records, and all other important records several times before the man had even arrived. He made it a point to know everything about his patient that was available to him so that he could be as effective as possible. He was known for being strict, but not harsh; he gave them what they needed regardless of what it was. The Austrian was a fairly new doctor and normally would not have been assigned to such a difficult case, but he was proficient in languages and, being new, was more willing to experiment with different methods of treating patients than the other doctors who were more set in their ways. The Chief of Staff had decided a change was what Gilbert would likely need.

Stepping into the Prussian's room, Roderich wasn't surprised by the other's cocky smirk at all. He challenged the expression with a calm smile of his own. "Hallo, Gilbert," Roderich greeted calmly, shifting the clipboard in his hand to seem less guarded. "I'm Doctor Edelstein, though you may call me Roderich if you wish." Part of helping patients like Gilbert was getting them to trust you; being a little less formal would help with that.

Gripping the clipboard tightly in his hand, Roderich studied the silverette. Everything about the way he held himself was cocky and arrogant, but the Austrian sensed something forced about it. He knew this was a defense mechanism; Gilbert's need to appear in control stemmed from a fear of losing control. That was how things like this worked. Understanding the case wouldn't necessarily make Gilbert's attitude any easier to work with, but it did give him a reason not to give up. "Since you've just arrived, you must be hungry. I had one of our cooks prepare something for you; I hear you like pancakes?"

[Königreich Preußen]

A silver eyebrow shot upward in faint surprise at the friendly tone being directed at him. Normally, most doctors were on guard around him; they'd heard about his previous issues and cases with doctors before, and none of them dared lower their guards enough for his attack. Still, in the end he always won, and the victory was that much more sweet. But this man... he was different. From the moment he walked into the room, Gilbert knew this game was going to be the best one yet. It was going to be different.

"Roderich...?" he repeated casually, grinning as he tilted his head to the side, allowing his native tongue of German to pour from his lips. Might as well give the poor guy an easy start. He looked young. "Seriously? Heh, wouldn't have thought you'd have a name like that with a face like yours. Are you sure you're not misreading your name as Rodericka, pretty boy?" The smirk grew as he leaned forward, resting his elbow against the top of the short bedframe and laid his chin in his palm. If he looked relaxed, the doctors had always had a habit of thinking he wasn't going to attack--and how wrong they always were. He went after his pray like an eagle; he circled until the time was right, and then he struck. Hard. Besides, the pretty ones were always easiest to break; the easiest to make give up.

His attention shifted at the mention of pancakes and he straightened almost immediately, a snort filled the room. "So, you read my report. I'm flattered, Roddykins--can I call you that? Pff, who cares, you're stuck with it. I know I'm awesome, but I didn't think I was that interesting to read about..." he blinked, focusing his crimson gaze on Roderich's. "So? Where are the pancakes, Roddykins?"

[Austria]

Raising an eyebrow, Roderich sat in the chair opposite Gilbert (if they were more on the same level, that would help him feel more comfortable too) and let his clipboard rest in his lap. "Insulting my masculinity? Hm. I would have expected something a little more creative from what I've heard of you." The words rolled off his tongue easily, his tone casual and just slightly authoritative. Instead of being defensive, he welcomed the Prussian's taunts; they were harmless, another defense mechanism. That's what he kept telling himself, and he knew it was true.

Roderich was not at all deceived by how relaxed the silverette appeared to be; he knew the signs too well to let his guard down. "That's an odd nickname you've chosen for me. It's not very flattering, but I can't stop you from using it," he said in the same even tone. The nickname was somewhat annoying, but if he didn't appear upset by it, the other would get bored with it and would stop. And if he didn't, well... he had definitely been called by worse named in his life.

Smiling slightly to himself when the albino perked up at the mention of pancakes, the brunette remained quiet until Gilbert finished speaking. "The pancakes will be brought up shortly. I'm sure you're used to this by now, so I hope you don't mind cooperating and allowing the nurse to draw some blood for the usual tests." Instead of treating him as though he had no idea what was going on like Roderich assumed most doctors did, the Austrian decided to treat Gilbert competently; obviously he knew what the tests were, he'd been in and out of different hospitals many times. He knew he would be irritated if he was treated as though he had no idea what was going on; hearing the tests listed off over and over could only be annoying.

[Königreich Preußen]

The corners of Gilbert's mouth twitched slightly as his smile turned into something (slightly) more genuine. His eyes still danced with the mischief, but he had to give Roderich merits for taking the blows without so much as a flinch. Any other doctor he'd come across would have been irked by now, their voice and posture stony in an attempt to look "tough" and defend themselves. It was like watching a small animal try to make itself look bigger to a predator. It never worked, and the Prussian loved to watch people squirm. But that was the issue, the brunette wasn't squirming as much as the other doctor's. That made it interesting.

"So you've heard about me..." he muttered, quirking an eyebrow. "You're not the first. My report has to be the size of a small novel by now. Hell, if I keep it up, I might beat the first Harry Potter. I'm thinking of spelling things out on my skin with the IV needle. That'd get people's attention, ja? Maybe spell out 'awesome' on my arm; pretty boss tattoo." He grinned as he spoke, taking care to keep his tone even as he did so. If there was one thing he'd acquired over the years, it was the ability to keep a good poker face. He'd tricked both doctor and shrinks alike, and he wasn't about to let someone else beat him at his own game. No, he was too awesome for that.

Leaning back against the wall, thrust his arm out at Roderich, not so much as a flinch gracing his features as his knuckles crashed into the metallic clip of the keyboard, breaking his skin. Blood oozed down his knuckles and toward his wrist, staining his abnormally pale skin with crimson rivers and blossoms as it filled in the lines of his skin. "Alright, Doctor Roddykins. Take as much as you leave--hell, take a taste. It's not that bad once you get used to it."

[Austria]

Roderich assumed normal doctors would be somewhat disturbed by the morbid words of his patient; he, however, was hardly fazed. "Spelling things with an IV needle? That would hardly be a permanent tattoo. Why not get a real one?" he asked, not even batting an eye as the words left his mouth. It was hard to be sure, but Roderich knew joking about self-harm wasn't always meant to be taken lightly. Flicking the cap off his pen, Roderich jotted something in the margin of the paper.

Their exchange had not been what Roderich had expected at all; he expected Gilbert to be more like a caged animal, defensive and violent. That's how the reports classified him, at any rate. Slipping the pen back in his pocket, Roderich noticed the silverette had come closer; at first he thought the other was simply curious about what he had written, but when the albino's pale hand cracked against the metal of the clipboard, he was caught off guard. The brunette had been studying his face and noticed that when the metal cut into his skin, he didn't even flinch. There was a difference between having a high pain threshold and simply being used to pain; given that some of his knuckles would now need stitches and he hadn't even flinched put Roderich under the impression that Gilbert was used to pain. Given that the doctors knew very little about what had happened to him, the Austrian felt like that was important. Either the silverette had endured a lot of pain or he inflicted it on himself...

Sighing, Roderich set the clipboard upside down beside the chair to prevent blood from dripping on the pages and immediately wrapped the front of his white coat around the silverette's bleeding hand while the nurse went to get a bandage. Standing now, the brunette sighed softly, keeping slight pressure on Gilbert's bleeding knuckles, but not holding so hard he couldn't pull away if he wanted to. "You know that's not how it works, Gilbert. Now you'll just have to wait longer to eat while we stitch your knuckles."

[Königreich Preußen]

Rolling his eyes, Gilbert's lips pursed in a pout as he looked away from Roderich, stubbornly glaring at the wall. So his first few attempts hadn't worked. He'd find a way to deal with with that. After all, it was only the first day, and he had plenty of time to figure out what he could use to get under the Austrian doctor's skin. It was, after all, his talent to annoy people. There wasn't a single person in the world he couldn't tick off. This pretty boy wasn't going to break his record.

"Oh, damn, gotta wait just a little longer..." the albino scoffed and tugged his hand away, staring blankly at the blood that began to ooze quickly from the gashes in his hand, adding more stains to the already red skin. "Who cares? Not like they let me eat much, anyway. My awesomeness isn't to be trusted with kitchen utensils. I might use them as weapons against the doctors or some shit. You stab a guy in the shoulder once with a fork for getting in your face, and suddenly, you're a criminal. I don't see what the big deal is... Not like I hit anything vital. Just one of his smaller veins."

When the nurse entered the room, Gilbert immediately fell silent and shifted his glare to the floor. The only response he gave was a firm share of the head when she offered a numbing medication, but other than that, the albino remained motionless. It wasn't until the nurse left that Gilbert finally raised his head and smirked at Roderich, "You've got red on your jacket, you know. People might not take that well if you walk out of here like that." His arm was extended again, "Well, hurry up and take your blood, but I bet there's enough of it for a few tests on your jacket."

[Austria]

Roderich knew Gilbert's type. Irritating people and learning how to push their buttons was a game to him; it was a game most people didn't like playing, but it was also one that Roderich was rather good at. His attention to detail allowed him to learn what buttons to push as well, although he rarely said anything with the sole purpose to irritate someone. With the silverette, though, he knew he would have to give as good as he got. He had to stay in control, he refused to let Gilbert slip through the cracks and be shipped from hospital to hospital. It was only a matter of time before the system got frustrated and threw him in solitary for the rest of his life or something similar; the Austrian had vowed to never let that happen to anyone else.

Sighing at Gilbert's mention of the fork incident, the brunette leveled his gaze back to the Prussian's pale face. "Regardless of your intent or the extent of the damage done, the fact remains that you attacked someone with a fork. That is frowned upon in most societies; you shouldn't be surprised people don't trust you with sharp objects. However, there is a reason this facility uses plastic silverware, although I don't doubt you could find a way to make that dangerous as well." There was no reason for the silverette to lash out at anyone in the room and no time for him to make any lethal plastic weapon while they were all watching him, so Roderich was comfortable with allowing the albino to take his time in eating. He wouldn't be allowed to keep the utensils, anyway, so it wouldn't matter.

The nurse arrived with the bandages and the necessary materials to stitch Gilbert's hand and Roderich remained silent as he watched the young woman do her job. Roderich noticed he held his tongue around the woman and kept his gaze turned away; that was curious. Was he perhaps more respectful of women? Humming softly under his breath, Roderich picked up the clipboard, wiped the blood off with his already stained coat, and jotted down another note. The fact that the other had refused anesthetic was also noted; given his self-inflicted injury and apparent aversion to avoiding pain, Roderich almost wondered if he liked it. There was so much that wasn't known about Gilbert that the Austrian had to keep his options open, though something told him his latest thought was unlikely.

At the mention of his stained jacket, the brunette merely looked down at himself and shrugged. "I have another one to replace this. And as you can imagine, seeing a doctor with blood on his jacket while working in a hospital isn't altogether uncommon." Keeping his cool, the brunette set the clipboard down on the chair before quickly going through the motions of drawing Gilbert's blood. He could have the nurse who stitched his hand do it, or one of the interns who had accompanied him, but he wanted to show the Prussian that he wasn't afraid to be near him. If he was going to convince the silverette that he could be trusted, he had to make the effort.

Pulling back once he had an adequate amount of blood, Roderich removed the needle, handed the vial to the intern, and put a small band-aid over the tiny puncture wound without asking if it was necessary. It was easy enough for Gilbert to remove if he decided he wanted to bleed all over himself. "There. While the tests are being run, you can eat." Nodding to the other intern who had been hovering outside the door, the Austrian watched as a rather large stack of pancakes were set in front of the Prussian. For courtesy's sake, there was a small container of butter and a medium-sized bottle of syrup next to the stack of pancakes so that Gilbert could have them however he liked.

While he knew he could be done with this particular patient for awhile and send someone else in to observe him. the issue of trust was always hovering in the back of Roderich's head. It kept him rooted to his chair once he sat back down with his clipboard in his lap. His job and that of a psychologist weren't incredibly dissimilar, especially not now, when all he could do was observe. He tried to be unobtrusive, merely sitting in the chair against the wall, alternating between writing on the paper in front of him and watching the silverette.

[Königreich Preußen]

As the tests were taken, Gilbert didn't utter so much as a sigh. How many times had been through all of these tests before? He'd long since lost count, and continuing would only serve as a reminder of where he was. Crimson eyes remained locked on the tangle of blankets pooled around his waist until the brunette was finished, and it wasn't until the pancakes were brought into the room that the albino finally showed signs of life.

Taking the plate of pancakes from the intern, Gilbert smirked as the almost-doctor scrambled backward and quickly made his exit from the room. Even easier to scare than the doctors themselves, he thought before looking down at the plate in his lap. His eyes gleamed happily at the sight of the fluffy pancakes, fingering the bottle of maple syrup happily. This was definitely a step-up from the other hospitals. At least they actually gave him enough syrup to cover a few pancakes instead of the cruddy plastic cups from before.

As he picked up the plastic fork and knife to eat, hesitated, glancing at Roderich blankly. Pursing his lips, he smirked again and turned around so that his back was facing the doctor and rested the plate in his lap. His hands had begun to tremble slightly, but he quickly balled them and counted to five, smiling silently when the shaking stopped. Picking up the bottle of syrup, he dumped almost the entire contents of the container onto his pancakes and began eating. The food was downed in mere minutes, and soon, an empty plate was being held out to his new 'care-taker' as Gilbert wiped his lips.

"You've got half-decent cooking here," he said with a small grin. "I'm impressed. It's much better than the half-assed shit I'm used to. And here I was starting to think that every sorry sap who thinks they can save a few people in these places was a complete dumbass. Then again, they're the cooks. Not the wannabe scientists."

[Austria]

Roderich wasn't incredibly surprised when Gilbert turned away from him; he just made a note of it and continued to observe. When the Prussian was finished, he held the plate out expectantly and Roderich raised an eyebrow before taking it and handing it to the intern. "I'm glad you're satisfied with it, then. Perhaps you'll find this place to be more to your liking than the other hospitals and decide to stay. In the end, it's up to you."

Standing, the Austrian slid his white coat off and draped it over his arm, holding the clipboard in the crook of his elbow. "I need to go check on the tests and my other patients, and I'm sure you wouldn't be opposed to having some time alone. It was nice meeting you; I'll be back in to see you again later in the day." Offering the silverette the same calm smile from before, Roderich turned and left the room. This would be a challenge, he knew, but the Austrian was just as stubborn as the silverette; there was no way he would back down.

[Königreich Preußen]

Gilbert remained silent as Roderich left the room, not daring to shift his gaze until the intern had left and the door was shut. Chuckling, he turned his head and looked down at a small, and bizarrely realistic (but fake) looking chick sitting on the window sill beside his bed. "He's an interesting one, isn't he, Gilbird?" The silverette chuckled and reached out, running a slender finger along the toy's back as he continued, "I kinda like this one. He's stubborn and confident. Those ones are always more awesome to break... I wonder if he'll last longer than the Belgian one. He was the longest yet...."

With a smirk, the albino licked his lips, savouring the final tastes of maple as he fell back against his pillows. As much as the Prussian enjoyed good food, that alone wasn't enough to tempt him to act like a "good little boy." It would take more than that. A lot more. The game was far too much fun to give up without a fight, and he wasn't going to make it easy for the only person to propose a challenge to him. No, he was going to throw everything he had at Roderich. He'd poke every button he could find until the brunette broke. That's how the game worked.

"It's going to be an interesting week..." Gilbert murmured. "I'll have him finished by Friday."

[Austria]

It had been five weeks since Gilbert had arrived at Steinhof, and for Roderich they had been far from easy. Between the Prussian's frequent escape attempts and pranks (though it had been irritating, the Austrian had been somewhat impressed when he found a dress in place of his usual white jacket. If nothing else, Gilbert was incredibly resourceful), Roderich found himself sometimes wondering if he was making any progress at all. The albino frustrated him on a regular basis, but the brunette didn't let it get to him. He would work off his frustrations while he was alone and return the next day as though nothing had ever been wrong. He could tell his undiminished attitude was starting to get to the silverette and that was his own private victory. He wasn't going to give up on Gilbert.

Being so new, Roderich didn't have many patients, and the problems that Gilbert posed made him his primary concern. He counseled a few of the other patients and checked on a few of them for his co-workers, but as far as actually having his own patient to look after, Gilbert was it. Although, for having only one patient, there was never a lack of variety in his days.

The brunette had decided to try something new recently; usually the interns didn't bring Gilbert breakfast until after Roderich had checked on him in the morning. For the past two days, Roderich had them bring him breakfast before, hoping that giving him his favourite food would put him in a more pleasant mood. As was customary, the Austrian knocked twice on the door before stepping into his patient's room, surveying him quietly before speaking. "Good morning, Gilbert. Enjoying breakfast?"

[Königreich Preußen]

Frustration. It was the only word Gilbert could think of to properly summarize his emotions by the ending of the first week. No one had ever lasted this long, and he was starting to run out of the classic tricks that had always worked. Still, the brunette didn't seem to have any intention of giving up soon. He'd even managed to steal a dress from the locker rooms--and even that didn't work. The damn Austrian doctor had just worn the pale blue bit of cloth.

That's when he had started the escape attempts, and the silverette had to praise himself for getting so close to the front doors a few of the times. Each escape was most insane than the last, but eventually, the hospital staff seemed to stop caring when they saw the Prussian making his way down the hallway. Unfortunately for him, they'd taken to the signs and it soon reached the point where he couldn't even make it out of the double-doors at the end of the ward's hallway--they'd always be locked.

After that, Gilbert had resorted to switching between languages at random. Alas, Roderich seemed to be just as fluent in every one he tried as the albino himself--save for Russian. But that was the only language Gilbert couldn't claim to know enough to hold a conversation that would last more than a few minutes. Not that he wanted to. He despised the language and only used it because he knew the brunette didn't. Still, even the change in languages didn't last, before long, the silverette had simply resorted to not speaking at all, but by the close of the fifth, he even that had grown old.

When the door opened Monday of Week Six, Gilbert heaved a heavy sigh and pushed his empty plate aside. Crimson eyes shifted toward the door as a blank expression crossed the Prussian's features, allowing silence to fill the room. Why on earth Roderich was skill being nice to him, he couldn't imagine. Sure, the brunette had returned a few of his pranks, but even then, they'd been harmless. It didn't make sense. Everyone gave up at this point. Everyone moved on to other, better behaved patients.

Everyone had left him alone.

"...Gut," he finally answered, his tone quiet as he continued to stare. It wasn't as if the Austriana ctually gave a damn about the silverette. He, Gilbert, was just a patient. Just a means for the brunette to get paid. Just a face that would soon disappear once there was no more reason for him to stay. Once the hospital got fed-up with him and sent him somewhere else.

Roderich couldn't actually care, could he? The thought scared Gilbert. No one had cared before. No one had become attached. No one had bothered trying to... and in turn, he'd never allowed anyone to get close to him.

But now... now... He blinked. He hadn't... stared to care himself, had he? The thought scared him even more than the previous ones, and before he could stop himself, he had started to speak. "...Why are you still here? Why do you care? I've given you hell these past few weeks. Shouldn't you be gone by now? Stop... pretending like you care."

[Austria]

When Gilbert actually responded with words instead of the silence he had gotten used to, Roderich raised an eyebrow. "I had almost forgotten what your voice sounds like, Gilbert. Feeling better today?" The question was essentially rhetorical and he didn't really expect an answer, but Roderich was honestly relieved that the Prussian had decided to speak again, even if it was only one word.

However, when that word was joined by others, sentences even, Roderich blinked and surveyed the albino. "Who said I was pretending? I didn't choose this job for the money like some people. I chose to work here because I do care." Even though his words were true, the Austrian didn't want to get into exactly why he cared. It was still difficult for him to be open about certain things, and his reasons for wanting Gilbert to get better was one such thing.

Shifting and resting his clipboard against his side, the Austrian took a seat across from the silverette's bed. "So tell me, are you going to cooperate today? Or should I expect to be kept on my toes?"

[Königreich Preußen]

Roderich's answer was vague, just as Gilbert expected, but there was something about the tone--or maybe even the way he said it--that made the albino want to believe him. Which was terrifying. The Prussian didn't trust people. He never had. Not since his little brother. It scared him. The silverette had long since been taught that trusting others lead to pain. Or that's how it always seemed to work for him. Those who were in the hospital didn't have anyone to care about them. That's how it had always been.

But now... now...

Wordlessly, the Prussian held out his arm, expecting yet another to be pushed into it. How many blood-tests had the hospital taken? Part of him was convinced that the only reason his skin was so pale was because he'd lost so much of the crimson liquid to pointless tests that had yet to prove anything. No one knew what had happened to him. No one knew why he had scars, or why he didn't like the things he didn't like. No one had really bothered to ask why he didn't like being touched, and his refusal to answer on the rare times such questions had popped up were quickly taken as an all-around silence to all questions.

It was just another reason that showed him no one gave a damn.

"...Take your blood and run your tests. Tell me if you actually figure anything out this time." Blood doesn't tell the story of someone's past.