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Gilbert’s phone rings for the third time in ten minutes. With a defeated groan he finally throws off the covers and gets up to pull his phone out of the hoodie pocket he left it in the night before. He doesn’t even look at the display before answering and shoving the phone between his shoulder and ear.“Ja?”“Oh, thank goodness you answered. Did I wake you up?”Gilbert is so surprised to hear that voice that it doesn’t even register for a good thirty seconds that he should actually answer the girl's question.“…No, you didn’t wake me up, don’t worry.” He lies, partially because he doesn’t want to make her feel bad, but also because most functioning adults aren’t still in bed at 10:47 Am on a Wednesday. “Sorry. Erika, is it?”If she's offended by him almost forgetting her name, it doesn’t show in her voice. “Yes! I got your number from Roderich, I hope that's ok.”Well that sorts out that question. Erika was the little sister of a friend. Well, more so the friend-of-a-friend. He met Basch one night in Berlin while he was accompanying Roderich to some music performance or another. Normally Gilbert was more interested in things like these, but the presence of the man (Swiss, not German, if his accent was any indication) caused far more distraction than was probably normal. Apparently he and Roderich had been childhood friends, and it was easy to see why. They almost matched each other perfectly in mannerism and attitude, but there was just something about Basch that held Gilbert’s rapt attention. Maybe it was the way his eyes seemed to cut into everything he looked at, or maybe it was the annoyed curl of his lips at each and everyone of Gilbert’s corny jokes.Whatever it was, It had Gilbert hooked.Besides, clearly the man hadn’t despised his presence since the night ended with him forking over his phone number with minimal prodding on Gilbert’s part.He just, uh, hadn’t exactly put that number to good use yet.Because other than Roderich, they didn’t exactly have a lot in common. He had been hoping that Roderich would invite him out again for something just so he'd have an easy excuse to text the man, but three weeks had passed and no such invitation had come.The last thing he had expected to happen was for his younger sister to be calling him out of the blue.“Don’t worry about it. What can the great Gilbert Beilschimid do for you?”“It’s...well,” Suddenly she sounds unsure. “I have a favour to ask of you. It’s to do with Basch.”Gilbert will forever deny the way he stuttered at the mention of his name. “O-oh? Is everything ok?”“Well...it's just that, I’m out of town and brother doesn’t like to worry me so I know he’s not being honest with me and Roderich is in Vienna and won’t be back until next week and Brother doesn’t have many friends and-”“Woah,” Gilbert cuts the young girls’ rambling off. “Slow down, I didn’t catch any of that. It’s ok, you don’t have to justify why you’re calling me.”“Sorry.” She sounds bashful. Gilbert can picture her blonde bangs falling over her eyes. Green, like her brother’s.“Start again. What do you need me to do?”She takes a breath. “My brother is sick and I’m worried that he’s pretending to feel better than he is to keep me from worrying. Could you go and check on him please?”—------------------So that’s how Gilbert finds himself outside of an apartment building trying to fit his fingers through the slot in a post box in order to retrieve a spare key that Erika promised would be there. He was surprised at how close the pair lived to him, the journey not ever taking half an hour. Although the sudden thunderstorm made him wish he had taken his brother’s car instead of his motorbike. He made sure to tell any and all concerned passersby that Erika Zwingli had sent him but he started to get the feeling that that just made him look more suspicious. He was about to give up and call Erika back to ask if there’s any other way in when he finally brushes cool metal with his fingertips.Triumphant, he made his way back towards the elevators and up to the fifth floor once more. The whole reason why he had to embarrass himself for the last ten minutes trying to get the damn key was because no one had answered the door the first time he went up. Poor Erika had been so worried when he called to tell her that her brother wasn’t answering.The key slid into the lock easily and finally Gilbert was inside the apartment. Basch’s apartment. ‘Tidy’ is the first word that comes to mind as he makes his way through. It reminds him a lot of the man himself in a way, efficient and straight to the point. It’s a house, two people live here. What more do you want? He has a sneaking suspicion that any of the sparse ‘cosy’ elements had been added by Erika. A knitted blanket thrown over the back of the couch, a couple of house plants here and there, a photograph on the counter top. He stops to look at that last one for a moment, picking it up to examine it closer. It’s of Basch and Erika, both younger, and by the looks of it, they were back home in Switzerland. On Basch’s lips there was the ghost of a smile.A loud cough breaks him out of his daydreaming. He puts the picture frame down and makes his way down the hall, socks barely making a sound against the hardwood floor. For all that it was lacking in personality, it was undeniably a very nice apartment. He knew bankers weren’t exactly paid little but he couldn’t help but wonder if it was enough to actually buy and not rent a place this nice in the heart of Berlin. Himself and Ludwig were lucky enough to get their grandpa’s house in the will.Following the sound brought him to a room down the hall. Through the half open door he saw the figure of Basch bent in half, coughing violently into his hands. Before he even realised what he’s doing he’s crossed the room and rubbing Basch on his back, trying to soothe him.It’s only after the fit ends and Basch stiffens suddenly under his touch that Gilbert realises that maybe he should have announced his presence before just barging into his room.Basch leaps backwards away from his touch before he even has a chance to speak, mouth open and eyes wide in sudden terror. Gilbert fumbles desperately for something to say before Basch starts screaming.“Hey! Hey calm down, it's me! Your sister asked me to check up on you, she said she texted you about it! I promise I’m not here to rob you, please calm down.”After what feels like an eternity Basch finally seems to come down from his panic, green eyes focusing on Gilbert’s face. All the fight left him in an instant, exhaustion replacing the fear in his eyes as he collapsed back onto his bed.“What are you doing here?”Christ he sounds like shit. Looks like it too. Voice hoarse and scratchy, eyes glassy and unfocused as his tongue briefly licks over his cracked lips.Erika told him that Basch had said that it was just a cold. He understands now what she meant when she worried about him downplaying it.“I told you, your sister sent me.”“Why?”“Because she was worried you were lying about how sick you were.”Basch looks away, clearly annoyed. “It’s just a cold.”“Bullshit.”Basch’s glare would have been a lot more effective if it wasn’t for the scarlet blush painting his cheeks or the way he seemed to sway slightly even sitting down.As the silence between them stretched on, Gilbert took the time to look around Basch’s room. There’s an empty glass and some miscellaneous pills on the bedside table next to an open laptop. Gilbert narrows his eyes.“Please don’t tell me you were actually working.”“Of course I was, just as you should be. It’s a Wednesday.”Gilbert rolled his eyes. “I work freelance. What's the point of doing that if I don’t get to choose my own days off?”“You must have something better to do other than being in here and bothering me.”“You call it bothering, I call it making sure you haven’t worked yourself to death.”“I didn’t ask you to be here, I can take care of myself.”Gilbert almost wanted to laugh.“Clearly Erika doesn’t think so if she sent me.”Something in Basch seemed to snap. Suddenly, he’s out of the bed and on his feet and getting directly in Gilbert's face. He hadn’t noticed how similar they were in height until then. He hates how that makes his heart flutter.“What the hell do you know? You-! You’re practically a stranger to me and suddenly you’re in my house trying to tell me what to do! Erika is practically a child, she doesn’t have to worry. I can-”Gilbert, stunned as he was from the sudden outburst, almost didn’t catch Basch as he swayed and collapsed. Any anger he could have felt at the words said to him vanished as soon as he felt the sheer heat radiating off of the man's skin.“Jesus, Basch you’re burning.”Gilbert pushes on his shoulders to get him to sit on the bed and Basch goes down without so much as a token protest. He’s staring past Gilbert to some far off spot on the wall, eyes glazed over with fever. The sight of it makes Gilbert’s stomach twist.“Basch, hey, I’m going to lay you down now, ok?”No reply. Not that Gilbert was expecting one at this point. After he’s finished tucking in the covers, he makes his way back into the kitchen to dig around their cupboards for anything useful. Thankfully everything is as organised as he hoped it would be and soon he’s making his way back to Basch’s bedside armed with clean tea towels and water. First he props up his head on some pillows and coaxes him to take a few sips because god only knows how long that cup on his bedside had been empty for. Only when he wets the towel and starts wiping gently at Basch’s burning skin does some semblance of cognizance return to him. He blinks blearily up at Gilbert for a moment before his features crease into confusion.“Gilbert?”“Hey, it's me. Nice to see you back with us. How do you feel?”Basch made no indication of having heard him, instead turning his head towards the coolness of the towel.“....Thought I was dreaming before.”Gilbert…isn’t sure what to make of that. But before he can ask, Basch’s eyes droop and his breath evens out as he succumbs to sleep.Outside, thunder booms and the rain comes down hard against the glass of the windows. Well, he couldn't get home in these conditions even if he wanted to.His stomach grumbling finally clued him in to just how much time had passed since the phone call this morning. They can’t get mad at him for helping himself to a late lunch if he makes some for Basch as well, right?—------------------He’s busy enjoying a second portion of soup when he hears it.He had decided to let Basch sleep for a little longer instead of immediately waking him up to eat. It wasn’t as good as chicken soup, but he had managed to make a pretty decent vegetable soup if he did say so himself. He had been enjoying the stillness of the apartment and the sounds of the storm outside until a loud shout coming from Basch’s bedroom broke the silence. He almost tripped over his own feet running to the source of it. Where before Basch had been sleeping calmly now he was thrashing, legs tangled in the sheets. Gilbert was shocked to see tears streaming down his cheeks. Basch was mumbling something in some Swiss German dialect that Gilbert could just about understand. He grabbed onto his shoulders, pulling his face away from where he was intent on smothering himself with his own pillow.Basch gasps and jolts awake, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes, panting. Gilbert never felt more useless than he did in that moment. Usually he prided himself on being excellent at comforting people. Where his brother was as emotionally competent as a brick wall on his best days, Gilbert was always the one to offer comfort and a strong shoulder to cry on. Now however, as he watches Basch tremble in fever and the remnants of whatever had plagued him in his dreams, he finds himself with nothing to say.Basch was right earlier. Gilbert doesn’t know him at all.”But,” he mentally reminds himself, ”his sister trusted you enough to call you. Don’t fuck this up Gilbert.”“Hey,” He calls out gently, picking up the towel from where it had fallen off the bed to lay it across his brow again. “You’re ok, you’re ok. Can you look at me?”Basch does look at him, but he interrupts Gilbert before he can say anything else.“Where’s Erika?”The question stuns Gilbert for a moment as he struggles to remember where exactly the young girl said she was.“She’s on an overnight trip to Munich with some friends. She’s ok.”Either Basch doesn’t hear him or he doesn’t care because he immediately tries to climb out of bed again.“No, no, where is she I need to know.”Gilbert places a hand on his chest to push him back down. “Ok, I’ll call her for you. Just stay down.”He keeps his hand on Basch as he pulls out his phone. It rings and rings but nothing. Gilbert curses. Out of all the times to not pick up the phone….“She’s not answering right now. She’s probably just busy. She’ll call back later I promise.”He doesn’t expect Basch’s eyes, still red from crying, to fill back up with tears.“Oh, no, no. Please don’t cry.”But his words fall on deaf ears as Basch lets out a sob.“I need to know where she is. I need to look after her please I-” He pauses to take a hiccuping breath. “I’m the only one left to look after her, please I need to.”It came to Gilbert then, amidst his panic, that he should probably have taken Basch’s temperature at some point. If it reduced the stoic stubborn man to sobbing in his bed and begging for his sister then it might be severe enough Basch would be better off in the care of a doctor. Thankfully it only takes a few minutes of frenzied searching for him to find a thermometer in the bathroom.It takes an almost impossible amount of time for him to coax Basch into closing his lips around the thermometer and actually keeping still enough for it to read his temperature, but when the stupid thing finally beeps it reads a temperature of 39.1 celsius.
Well, shit
That's not hospital level bad yet, but it sure is close.“Hey, Basch, look I know that you’re really sick right now and you probably can’t understand me properly but I really think that we should go to a hospital.”And just because everything else has been going oh so perfectly for Gilbert recently, Basch goes from quietly crying to sobbing. Slapping Gilbert's hands away when he tries to reach for him.“No! No! You can’t take me there, I have to look after her!”Gilbert doesn’t know what the final nail in the coffin of his decision making skills will be, his growing worry or his steadily draining patience. What he does know is that he can’t stand the sight of Basch so unbelievably distressed, so he does the only thing he can think to do at that moment.He wraps his arms around Basch’s shoulders and all but crushes him against his own chest, cradling him close as the smaller man lets out a surprised gasp at the sudden movement.For a moment Gilbert’s afraid that he’ll hit him again, or otherwise reject the contact but after a brief moment of being rigid and still he sags against Gilbert’s hold and buries his face into his shoulder.He shushes him quietly, gently rubbing his thumb in soothing circles against his back until the sobs die down into hiccups and he finally stills.Slowly, Gilbert pulls Basch away from him so that he can prop him up against the pillows. He looks a mess, face flushed from sickness and eyes swollen from tears. If Basch were more lucid he’d probably be furious with Gilbert for daring to look at him in such a state. He probably will be later he thinks. He has to admit that when he wished he’d have the opportunity to get to know the Swiss man better this really wasn’t what he had in mind.He gets him to drink another cup full of water and suddenly remembers the soup still in the kitchen, probably long since gone cold. A glance at the clock lets him know that they’re far past ‘late lunch’ and now firmly into ‘early dinner’. Still, better late than never, and Basch would probably feel better after eating anyway.“I made some soup earlier, are you hungry?”Basch makes a sort of muffled groan and that's good enough an answer for him.A quick minute in the microwave later and the soup is just as good as it was a few hours ago. He doesn’t even entertain the idea of trying to get Basch out of bed so he just grabs some napkins from the kitchen to lay across his lap to avoid making a mess everywhere. They turn out to have been a very good idea when Basch’s hands shake while holding the spoon and send hot soup right onto his lap.He eats with little fuss. Where Gilbert expected the silence to be tense and heavy instead he found the atmosphere to be almost calming. The storm outside had finally calmed down, the heavy rain lessening to a light drizzle. The light from the bedside lamp engulfs the room in an orange glow, defining Basch’s sharp features as he makes his way through probably his first meal in a while. Gilbert’s heart shouldn't be racing as it is, not when Basch is so sick, but he really can’t help himself.Now that it seems like Basch has finally calmed down from whatever had caused him to panic so blindly earlier, it’s probably a good time to bring up Gilbert’s earlier worry.“Basch,” he starts, taking the empty bowl away from him. “you with me?”Basch hums in acknowledgement.“I know it made you upset earlier but if your fever gets any worse I’m taking you to the hospital.”Basch stiffens, and for a second Gilbert’s afraid he’s going to start crying again.“I can’t go to the hospital. I have to be here for Erika.”“Erika isn’t even in the city right now.”“But I have to be here when she gets back.”This is going far beyond regular sibling worry. Hell, he loves Ludwig with all his heart but even he wouldn’t be so hung up about leaving him alone for a while, especially if he was sick enough to need a goddamn hospital stay.“Erika is, what, eighteen years old? She’ll be more than fine.”“But she shouldn't have to be alone, she shouldn’t have to worry about anything,” He’s starting to get agitated again, his voice cracking. “That’s my responsibility. I promised.”“Promised who?”“I…” Basch trails off, as if suddenly aware of what he’s saying. He sags back against the pillows, somehow looking even more exhausted than he did before. “I shouldn’t involve you in my problems. It’s none of your business.”Gilbert weighs his options. He could drop the matter, let Basch go back to sleep and return to minding his own business in the kitchen. Or…“What if I want it to be my business?”Basch’s eyes open a slither. “You barely even know me. We only met once before, and you’re only here because my sister called you. You should have gone home.”“I mean, yeah, we only met once, but I’d really like to get to know you better. A part from-” he waves his hand around the room. “all this. When you’re better maybe.”Basch actually snorts. “I gave you my number and you never texted.”Gilbert winces. Had Basch been..disappointed? “Sorry about that. I just.. I didn’t know what to say I guess. I kind of hoped that Roderich would invite me out somewhere again so that I had an excuse to text you.”Basch’s eyes are open again, looking up at Gilbert as if trying to tell if he’s lying. Gilbert takes his chance.“I’m serious about what I said before. If you have something you need to get off your chest I’m here.”Basch looks torne for a moment, before he sighs.“When Erika was thirteen, our father got sick. It just kept getting worse and worse so eventually he accepted that he had to go to the hospital. Erika was really upset about it. I promised her that he’d be back soon. It-” He chokes up for a moment. “It was leukaemia. He never came home.”Gilbert’s mouth drops open. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”Basch just continues. “Our mother left us when Erika was five. She moved to America, started a new family and forgot about us. Erika was devastated but my father did the best he could. When he got sick she was all he could think about, how he was leaving her.”The tears finally spill over. He makes no move to wipe them. “I promised him I’d look after her so that he wouldn’t worry. After he died we could barely stand to stay in Switzerland anymore, so we left when Erika finished secondary school. It was..” He struggles to find the words for a moment. “Hard, it was hard. We couldn’t contact our mother and had no other family. I took custody of Erika. We were lucky my father had good life insurance.”Gilbert didn’t know what to say. He felt struck dumb by this information. If Erika was thirteen when his father died, then Basch couldn’t have been older than eighteen himself. When Gilbert was eighteen he spent most of his time doing dumb shit with his friends, skipping school and getting drunk. Definitely not looking after a household and providing for his younger sibling.Basch isn’t looking at him anymore, choosing instead to stare down at his fidgeting hands.“I have to be here, I have to look after her. She doesn’t have anyone else. I promised.”It’s instinct now that leads him to take Basch’s hand into his own and say the only thing that he can think to say. “And you’ve doing great, but you have to take a break sometimes. Erika is ok, I promise. Please believe me.”Basch froze at that. Gilbert waited until Basch’s fingers curled around his own, and, voice thick with grief, he whispered so quietly Gilbert strained to hear him.“Okay.”The tension in Basch’s body has eased for now. Gilbert’s not entirely sure that Basch intended on letting all that out, or if he’ll even remember most of it when he’s better, but he’s glad that he did, if only for Basch’s sake. He wonders when the last time he let himself take a break was, or if anyone’s ever told him that it was ok to.Basch, exhausted both emotionally and physically, doesn’t protest when Gilbert pushes him down against the pillows and tucks the blankets back over him. The towel feels blessedly cool against his skin and he sighs, eyes drooping.Gilbert let him drop off to sleep, taking the bowl back into the kitchen with him. As he washed the dishes his phone rang and he jumped in surprise.“Oh my God Gilbert I’m so sorry! I was in the cinema with my friends and I forgot to turn my volume back on! Is everything ok? How’s my brother?”Gilbert looked back towards the hallway to where Basch was sleeping peacefully and smiled to himself.“We’ll be alright.”