Of Angels and Demons

Chapter Two: Discovered Identities

Chapter Two; Discovered Identities

A short time later, Gilbert teleports to the house he had lived in when he had been the Shoulder Demon of Haldis, Ludwig’s mother. For a second, he blinks at the sudden light. It had been near eleven in the New York suburb, but here in California it was still almost eight. He wasn’t certain that Ludwig would actually be here, but it was a start, at least. It would be faster to just contact Feliciano, or Lovino, but if Ludwig was bitter that he had stayed away for so long, he didn’t want to be turned away before actually setting eyes on the boy he’d come to love as a brother in the seven years that he had known him.

Gilbert frowns. When Gil had known him, the very thought of Ludwig being bitter, or even holding a grudge, would have been inconceivable. But it had been ten years, and a lot could happen in ten years. Especially after losing everything, like Ludwig had. Other than Haldis, Romulus, her Shoulder Angel, Gilbert, Lovino, Ludwig’s Shoulder Demon, and Feliciano, his Shoulder Angel, Ludwig had had no one. He was probably in a foster home somewhere, waiting to turn eighteen.

Gil finds himself struggling with second thoughts. What made him think that this would be a good idea? He should have been patient, waited for nature to do its thing, and re-unite with Ludwig after either Alfred or Ludwig died. This was bound to get awkward...

A click in the lock surprises him, and he turns to see a baby-faced man with soft brown hair carrying groceries, most noticeably an entire brown bag of bright red tomatoes, and wearing a loose white shirt and jeans.  This must be Antonio, a man Francis had told him about before he’d left. The one assigned to Roderich and Elizaveta.

And Ludwig.

They stare at each other for a moment, stunned. Then something flies toward the albino, arms out for a hug, yelling something in Italian, the force of whose launch almost sends them both skidding a few feet.

As they stop, Gilbert looks down at the Shoulder Angel, flustered. Feliciano, at least, was the same as ever. He even had the same look. A shirtless outfit consisting of a short, loose white skirt and, thankfully, underwear. He wasn’t wearing shoes yet, either. He’d gotten rid of the Halo, though. And his wings weren’t quite as… flamboyant as they had been. “Oh… Hey, Feli. Almost forgot you were a hugger,” he says, chuckling uncomfortably. Oh well. No turning back now.

“Gilbert… Is that really you?”

Gilbert takes a moment to soak in Ludwig’s appearance before he lets out another nervous chuckle. The eyes were the same blue, though they were more serious now. The hair the same light blond, cut the same as it used to be, even, except that Ludwig kept his bangs out of his eyes now. He still dresses immaculately, too, and he was wearing Haldis’s cross necklace, which seemed to be in good repair. And he’d grown up tall and muscular, but well-proportioned, not over-kill steroids body builder. Overall, Ludwig seems healthy enough, and that makes Gilbert glad. “Yeah, sorry I didn’t check up on you earlier, West,but I got re-assigned after, you-know, and I haven’t been able to get away until now…” he finished, rubbing the back of his head.

Roderich lets out a self-righteous sigh, because naturally he has to act like a stuck-up prick (Which is why he’s the Demon, and Elizaveta is the Angel, despite her more obvious devious tendencies) and pushes up his glasses as he says, “Reevaluated again, Gilbert? One would think you liked to be forced into indentured service.” Roderich was sitting on Antonio’s  shoulder, probably contemplating another symphony, judging by the fact that his white suit was slightly crumpled. The only time he would ever allow such a thing to happen would be while he was composing. Music had been his life. If his music sheets hadn’t been consumed by the fire that took both his and Elizaveta’s lives while they slept, he would undoubtedly have been revered as one of the great composers. But he’d never know for certain, and that had upset the Austrian more than the fact of his death.