When Lily's Cry: Puppet Strings

Chapter IX. The Head Is A Nuisance

WARNING: May contain mature content such as self harm, murder, suicide, abuse, swearing, etc...

A/N: short chapter to make up for inactivity. I was busy with school and other stuff, but I'm back! Enjoy! ^^

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Alfred stared at the floor of the empty hospital, entranced by the repetitive pattern. He had spent the entire day at the hospital, and now that all the kids were in bed, he felt a bit lost. It was almost comical how he himself looked like a child, with the expression of a little boy who had  strayed from his parents in Walmart. Gilbert was busy filling out paperwork and filing documents for the various patients he had checked up on. So even if Alfred wanted to hang out with the albino, he couldn't, since he didn't want to interrupt his work. So there he sat for half an hour, staring dazedly at the tiled floor.
Half way across the hospital, inside his office, Gilbert was busy inputting test results into the computer system. He had visited with several of the older children while Alfred played with the younger ones. One case in particular pulled at Gilbert's heart strings, a 17 year old boy diagnosed with HIV after being raped by his oldest cousin. A frail British boy by the name of Arthur, who apparently went to the Americans school.
It reminded Gilbert of Alfred, since he received mono after a fateful encounter with either his father, or...
The German frowned at the files in his hands, realizing he had crushed them in his pale fists. With a tired huff, he reopened the file on his desktop, reprinting the papers he had ruined. The albino rubbed at his temples, listening to the wind blow outside, and watching the cars that would occasionally drive by. He flinched at the beep of his computer, signaling that the printer had finished its task. Sighing, Gilbert left his office and headed down the hall towards the break room. It always frustrated him that his office was so far away from the employees lounge, and it frustrated him even more that there were always nurses or medical assistants slacking off inside.
Gilbert shoved the door open, knocking Alfred off his feet, and causing him to land with a soft grunt. The older gave a hurried apology before picking the younger up. Alfred thanked the doctor for his assistance, chuckling a bit, before wincing. Gilbert's ivory hands recoiled, since he didn't want to hurt Alfred anymore then he already had.

"Sorry," Gilbert blurted, "there are bruises on your arms, right?"

Alfred seemed shocked that Gilbert knew, but he was a doctor after all, and it was his job to be able to efficiently diagnose his patients.

"Well uh," Alfred faltered, "I mean- not exactly, but- yeah, sorta."

Alfred looked down at his feet, feeling ashamed for some odd reason.

"Let me have a look, then," Gilbert suggested, nodding at an empty chair.

Alfred hesitated before grunting in conformation, "Sure."

Alfred sank into the plush fabric of the seat, rolling up his sleeves slowly, unsure of how Gilbert would react.

"Hmm," he scrutinized the bare skin of Alfred's arms, "about what I was expecting, though it seems there are a few new scars, and some old ones that finally went away. But I'm sure those aren't the only injuries you have, after all, your living with that- ah, sorry. Anyway, lift up your shirt."

Alfred flushed, "W-Why??"

"The first thing they teach you in medical school," Gilbert started, "is that you need to make sure a persons core is in tact before assessing any other injuries. After all, the core is where our lungs are."

He poked at Alfred's left side, "it's where our kidney is,"

He nudged Alfred's  abdomen, "and it's where the heart is."

Gilbert pointed at the center of Alfred's chest, smiling a bit.

"It's incredibly important," he grinned, "so just let me take a quick look and make sure everything's in order."

Alfred hummed, "okay,"

"But," Alfred lifted up his shirt, "doesn't it gross you out? My body, I mean."

"What," Gilbert rose an eyebrow, "why would I be grossed out by you??? Personally I think your body is really beautiful."

Gilbert frowned as he caressed the jagged scar that ran across Alfred's stomach. A failed suicide attempt, and a permanent reminder of his failure to save his friends from the pain he endured. Gilbert was the one to find him, and a good thing too, because the paramedics would have been too late. It wasn't that good though, since Gilbert became extremely anxious anytime Alfred was left alone, and was constantly burdened with the memory of Alfreds lifeless body held within his weak grasp.

Gilbert shook the thought from his head, and with a light chuckle, mumbled under his breath,

"Really, what's most important is the head, though it's a bit of a nuisance."