2p! PruAus: Devil's Little Angel

Chapter 6: Bruder

I didn't sleep well that night. My anxiety kept me on edge, and the slight echo of the creaking weather vain on the roof was enough to make me go nuts.

I got out of bed around 5, which was only an hour earlier than I would normally on a school morning, but it seemed so distant. I made myself a cup of coffee and sat on the back porch, watching the rain dribble over the clogged gutters. The rhythm of the rain calmed me down. The aroma of fresh water filled my nostrils and cleared my head. Even though I hadn't slept well, I think a moment like this could get me through the hellish Monday morning to come. I was so caught up in the moment that I didn't hear my brother creep up behind me.

"What are you doing up so early, kleiner Bruder?" Lutz yawned.

"I could ask the same of you," I said softly, sipping my coffee.

Lutz has called me that ever since he hit his growth spurt in the 8th grade, although I'm the oldest of the two of us. When he first started calling me that it bothered me tremendously. Now I just think of it as an inside joke between the two of us, a loving prodding. I know he's much bigger, stronger, and much better looking than I am. Quite honestly, I'd never have a hope with anyone when he's around. He'd never let me say that out loud though. He's very protective of my self esteem and doesn't like my self-deprecating jokes as a coping mechanism.

"Well I asked first," he said with a yawn. He stretched his arms out in front of him, then reaching them above his head. His shirt lifted revealing a small piece of his abdomen where several long scars reached across him. Those scars had matching ones, trailing up his arm and one even reaching his face. Despite being a socialite, Lutz's main group of friends isn't the best to be around. I can always expect that if he's out after midnight, he'll be walking in the door with bruises and maybe some blood. Though I don't approve of their actions, they've always been loyal to Lutz. When he has their back, they have his, and I'm grateful for that at least.

I was terrified when he came in with the short, wide scar that was on his back. It was around two in the morning a year or two ago when I could hear the door being kicked in. Dad was out late on a shift so I was alone and the sound terrified me. I apprehensively made my way down the stairs when I heard Lutz's friend, Luciano, yell from outside.

"Open up! Per l'amor del cazzo! He's gonna bleed to death!" he had wailed, pounding his fist into wood.

I stumbled down the steps and whipped the door open. Luciano pushed past me and fell to the floor, letting Lutz down beside him. Lutz sputtered out a groan as he hit the linoleum floor. I yelped at the sight on his back. It looked like a pair of maroon lips had formed on his lower left side. They were still spitting and sputtering and soaking his favorite t-shirt in blood.

"Don't just stand there" Luciano said between pants. "Get the man some alcohol."

"Alcohol?" I asked perplexed.

"Yes, rubbing alcohol to clean the wound and beer for when we stitch him up." Luciano stood up and faced me. Though shorter than me, his aura still managed to overpower and look down upon me. It was the kind of presence that demanded attention and respect. The look in his eyes was that of dying embers and he looked upon his friend on the floor. The fighting was over, and now was the aftermath.

"I'll get the beer," he mumbled. He rubbed the blood off of his lip and inspected it as he walked into the kitchen. I turned and ran back up the stairs and flicked the bathroom light on. After rummaging for a couple minutes through the medicine cabinet I made my way back downstairs where I found Lutz leaned up against the wall kissing the lips of a brown beer bottle. He managed to smile at me, holding his beer to me.

"I'm alive," he cooed at me. He was trying to reassure me and brush over the fact that he was fighting again. I refused to smile back and turned my glance to the side.

"Are we doing this here or do you want to lean on a bed?" I asked monotone. Lutz took and deep breathe and chuckled softly.

"Out of context, that's probably the kinkiest thing you've ever said."

He turned to Luciano and extended his hand. With a grunt and a tug, Lutz was on his wobbly feet slowly making his way to the couch. He knelt in front of the couch and rested his elbows on the seat. He reached for the back of his shirt and began pulling it above his head. A few whines, groans, and stitches later, we got him patched back up. Luciano tried walking me through it, but ended up taking over and finishing the patch up himself. He sighed and muttered under his breath before turning towards the door. Before he could grab the door handle, I stood up and spoke.

"You're going back out there this late?"

Luciano turned to me, surprised, but it barely affected his tough exterior. He nodded towards Lutz.

"Don't worry about me topolino. Take good care of your brother." Then he stepped out the door and back into the night. I watched him from the window as far as I could before he vanished. And the rest of that night was a tired blur.

"Gillen, you're totally zoning on me right now," Lutz said. I snapped out of my trance and turned to him. He took the mug from my hand and turned back inside. "I think you're gonna need more of this today."

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((A short chapter, but it's been a long time. Don't expect me to finish this story ever because my days with the Hetalia fandom fell behind me. ))