I Want You To Be Crazy Baby (Hetalia PruHun)

[Chapter One]

Chapter One-New Town, New Start

"Look at the house," Gilbert heard Ludwig say optimistically as they stepped over the threshold. He set his bag down, looking around at the dark corners in the hallway, his eyebrows contracting together. Dust floated around and a large staircase that led upstairs looked rickety and dangerous. The house was at least a hundred years old, "We'll get all of our furniture in and it will look like the one back in Berlin."

"Since when have you been the optimistic one?" Gilbert asked, trailing his finger on an old, abandoned book case and looking at the dust that gathered on his pale pads. He wiped his finger on the front of his jeans, frowning at the light-colored squares on the wall where picture frames used to hang. The windows had once been boarded and the ceiling had been half-caved in, but the repairmen fixed the ceiling and put in new panes in the window frames, as well as replaced the old, out of date wiring of the house. Hopefully the painters would come soon to make this place look a bit nicer.

"Well...I figured one of us has to be the optimistic these days," Ludwig sighed, scooping up Gilbert's bag and following after the older albino. Despite Gilbert being older, it didn't actually look like he was four years older than Ludwig. His clothes hung off his body and frame even though they were a size small, and his shoulder and hip bones jutted out sharply. Despite this, his red eyes were still lightened and his skin was vibrant. Ludwig was four years younger but much more muscular and well-built, with eyes the color of a blue Icee and blond hair slicked back. He was considerably more healthy, mentally and physically.

"I don't need you to be optimistic," Gilbert said, glaring up at a large and dusty crystal chandelier, "Tell me what you really think of the house."

Ludwig frowned at the back of Gilbert's head. With anybody else he would have gotten angry and agitated, frustrated, but his older brother was a special case. Ludwig had learned to be patient with him-Going through great lengths to not lose his temper.

"I think the house is fine," Ludwig said in a loud, clear voice, as he unzipped Gilbert's bag and pulled a few antidepressants out. When his brother's shoulders hunched like that, it was never a good sign. These things worked like magic on Gilbert, surprisingly. Within a half hour, Gilbert would be smiling and considerably lighter than he had been before, but until then Ludwig would have to deal with the depressing thirty minutes before the drugs kicked in. He wouldn't be needing his anxiety pills at the moment, as they wouldn't be leaving the house for a while, and certainly wouldn't be in public. At least, Gilbert wouldn't be leaving the house for a while. But if a panic attack struck while Ludwig was out, Gilbert knew where to look.

"Catch," Ludwig said, and tossed the pills in the orange container to the albino. He caught it easily and looked down at the label, and his nose wrinkled in disgust. Prozac and Zyprexa. Depression meds for sever cases.

And in his bag was a bottle of Xanax and Olanzapine. He hated the fact that he to rely on drugs to supply him with false happiness. Depression was not an easy road, as both brothers knew first hand (Gilbert being the victim and Ludwig the brother of the victim) but at least he wasn't cutting or overdosing. Yet Ludwig and his doctor still seemed to want him to take these stupid medications. He hated the labels they slapped on him.

'Depressed.'

'Insomniac.'

'Psychotic.'

'Anxious.'

'Neurotic.'

The worst part was when his doctor declared him to have Senile Squalor Syndrome. Displaying cases of apathy, depression, social withdraw, and self-neglect. Gilbert didn't want his depression to have a name. He just wanted to be depressed, dammit.