Mein Vögelchen

Twenty Two

Matthew fell asleep on the floor that night. When he woke up, Gil was kneeling by his side, his hand on his forehead.
"Jou're burning up." He whispered. "I zhink jou have a fever."
"Mnh." Matthew groaned, turning his head away.
"I'll get jou some medicine. Can jou get on zhe couch?"
Matthew shook his head.
"Here," Gilbert carefully lifted the blond onto the couch, tucking him into the blanket and running off to gather what he needed.
He came back and set a cold cloth on Matthew's head and placed a thermometer in his mouth.
He was acting like a mom. Why was he fussing over Matthew like this? It wasn't like he cared about him or anything...
Oh yeah.
He just wanted information.
He wanted to know what he was up against.
So why was he going so far out of his way to change the cold cloth on his head every hour or so? Why was he making him tea and spoon feeding him soup and constantly refilling his glass of Canada Dry? What made him turn the nature channel on so Matthew could listen to wildlife documentaries?
What was he thinking?
That one day drug on so slowly. Matthew's body felt too hot and too cold at the same time. He couldn't even move. Eventually, he managed to fall asleep, though.
When he woke up, it was nighttime and he still felt as bad as he had before falling asleep. There was a slight pressure on his hand so he turned his head to see what it was.
Gilbert was lying on the floor, snoring softly as he slept. The light from the tv made his face shine in a rainbow of colours. He was clinging to Matthew's hand as if he was worried. Matthew didn't know what to do about it. Surely this was some kind of misunderstanding. Gilbert didn't love him. He had to be holding his hand for another reason. Maybe so he knew when Matthew woke up, so he could interrogate him as soon as possible.
But with Gilbert asleep like this, Matthew could take advantage of him. He grabbed onto his blankets and lowered himself onto the floor as quietly as his sickened body was capable of. After pulling the blankets neatly over them both, he curled up in a ball and closed his eyes to sleep once again.

When he woke up that time, he was back on the couch and his fever still wasn't gone. It was now on its second day and Gilbert was even more frantic. He was trying to get ahold of Francis and Toni for help, but Francis wasn't picking up and Toni was on a date.
Eventually, he gave in and called Ludwig but his brother told him to do things that he was already doing.
When he exchanged that afternoon's cloth for a new one, Matthew managed to croak out a single word.
"Al..."
"Vhat?"
"I want to...talk to...my big brother..."
"I can't let jou do zhat. Jou might tell him vhat's going on."
"But if he doesn't hear from me...he'll freak out. He's already freaking out." Matthew argued.
"Jou do realize jour mein prisoner, right?"
Matthew swallowed so he wouldn't cry. "I'm sorry. Forget it." He rolled over and pulled the blanket over his head, letting the cloth fall into the pillow.
Maybe this fever would kill him.
Maybe he wouldn't have to bear with all this pain and heartbreak, with the loneliness eating away at him from the inside.
Somehow, the hurt his brother and the other guys at the agency would feel seemed worth the release he would feel. Surely Francis would understand why he let go. Surely Lars and Ivan would forgive him.
But if he died...the documents would definitely end up in the wrong hands.
And then the world would fall apart from there.