[Fanfic] To Shatter The Sky -Chpt. 3-

[triangularprism]

To Shatter the Sky
An Axis Powers Hetalia Fanfiction

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Chapter Three: Satellite
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Hey you.

Me...?

Yes. Who else would I be talking to?

…?

Idiot. You're all messed up. You're supposed to be awake.

I'm supposed to be... awake?

Yeah. You know, when you open your eyes.

Why...?

...Because you're alive now?

...Alive...?

…...

Did you... Break?

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A rancid smell suddenly permeated the darkness. In a flash Ludwig was awake, recoiling automatically from the disgusting scent only to be stopped midway by a hand on his shoulder, a hand pushing him firmly back down.
“Easy, lad,” came an amused voice, “Last thing we need is you jumping around and tearing something. Especially after what you've been through.” The voice was warm, albeit tired, but also very, very familiar.

Ludwig blinked away the blur in front of him, something he'd been doing a large amount of lately, to find he was was on his back, staring up. A bright light shone above. He squinted, trying to block the glare, in order to see...

Eyebrows. A very thick pair of eyebrows.

“How are we feeling today?” Arthur questioned him, and the rest of his face came in to view. He was smiling, screwing the cap back on to a vial of smelling salts. “Ludwig? Can you speak?” The medic's forehead creased in worry when Ludwig failed to react, only staring in disbelief. “Oh, dear. You remember who I am, right? Quick, tell me your name and birthdate!”
“You found me?” Ludwig croaked instead, scaring himself with the wheezing rattle issuing from his throat.
“What? Of course we did, but that wasn't what I asked-“
“Where are...?”
“You're in the shuttle! Now please reassure me that you've retained your memory...”

“WEST!?”

Shouting and the sound of a curtain being ripped aside heralded the sudden and dramatic entry of a solitary, white-haired figure, standing frozen at the threshold of the tiny space that was the medic bay. He was considerably less muscled than the patient in the bed, and seemed to be in a state of shock if his wide red eyes were any indication. He was also very pale, but then, that could be because Gilbert Beilschmidt, Ludwig's older brother, happened to be albino. Seconds later Ludwig found himself seized in a massive hug by Gilbert, who promptly shoved Arthur out of the way and squeezed the injured man as tightly as he could while crying and babbling with relief.

Unfortunately Ludwig could not respond, mainly from the decent amount of pain erupting from various places around his body.

“GILBERT! LET GO OF HIM THIS INSTANT!
“YOU'RE ALIVE, YOU'RE A-“
“HE WON'T BE MUCH LONGER IF YOU DON'T LET GO!”
“LUDWIG'S AWAKE?”
“Please, if you could all be quieter, I would like to see him as well...”
“BRO? SAY SOMETHING, YOU DON'T LOOK GOOD!”
“OUT! EVERYONE OUT!”

Things got out of hand quickly. With Gilbert, Alfred, and Kiku crowding in the tiny space, Arthur lost his temper and kicked them all resoundingly out.
“Idiots, the lot of them...” he grumbled, “Let's hope they didn't tear anything...” the medic ran a hand through bedraggled hair, distracted, then hastily returned to his patient's side, nimble fingers peeling back the thin blanket that covered him.

Able to breath again, Ludwig looked down. He swallowed, very thickly.
“That bad?” he asked quietly. Arthur was busy inspecting the wide swath of bandages completely covering his torso, but he paused.
“Three broken ribs, broken femur, shattered ankle...” the medic began to list off injuries, voice subdued, “Cracked fingers, broken arm, cracked tibia, cracked molar, rock shards imbedded in your back, concussion, and the stitches I performed... it is an absolute miracle that you survived what you survived” The man finished his inspection, satisfied that nothing had been upset. He sat back down heavily and sigh. “I was barely able to save your back in time, as it is. You almost were paralyzed.”

Silence lapsed after this statement. Ludwig digested the information. He was beginning to feel the state of his body now- stiff, sore, immobile. He could feel the casts on his legs, and the one on his arm. With the arm that wasn't bound he reached with up to brush the thick bandage around his head. Movement was slow, clumsy- no doubt Arthur had him on every drug known to man. A thought occurred to him...
“...The power cells?” he asked, voice still as rough as gravel, “You found them?”
“...What? Those?” Taken aback, Arthur looked as if he wanted to laugh if not for the seriousness of the situation. “Of course, but we've hardly thought about them considering what we almost lost in exchange...”
Ludwig ignored that last bit.
“...Good...” he sigh instead, dropped his head back down. By now he could recognize the cot beneath him. Feeling was returning to him by the minute, sans the pain.

Arthur seemed to think he was close to passing out again though, as he bopped his patient lightly on the head.
“No falling asleep!” he ordered, waving the smelling salts in his face, “I woke you up for a reason. You never did answer my ques-“
“My name is Ludwig Beilschmidt, my brother is Gilbert Beilschmidt, my birthday is two-thirty-seventh day, I have blue eyes, and I am from base camp North-42,” Ludwig recited in perfect clarity, well acquainted with the medic's memory loss questionnaire.
“Oh. Well.” Flabbergasted with the suddenness, Arthur spluttered for a moment or two on nothing.
“Uh, that is, I also gave you an extra dose of bone-growth,” he quickly added instead, “So, uh, if you feel anything coming in wrong... that is, I'll take some of your casts off soon... oh, bollocks, I hate it when you do that!”

That being said, Arthur stood huffily and stormed away, ripping the curtains aside and disappearing beyond. The corners of Ludwig's mouth twitched; the medic was temperamental as always. Still, heeding the other's words on his bone-growth, the scavenger shifted his limbs as much as he could with the casts, experimenting. He didn't feel anything out of place. Bone-growth was a handy medicine, designed to accelerate the regeneration of bone tissue in a matter of hours instead of weeks, but it was not unheard of for the serum to backfire and grow more than was intended...

Luckily nothing creaked or grated funny, so he assumed it was all was well.

The euphoria of being rescued, of being alive was slowly beginning to drain away, leaving him still happy, but now quite tired. He was warm, he was comfortable, he was no longer in pain, and as Arthur had stormed off, he was probably free to pass back into blissful sleep. With that exact thought in mind, Ludwig settled back on his pillow and closed his eyes. He felt the softness of the mattress underneath, the soothing texture of the blanket over him. Voices, issuing from beyond the curtain of the medical bay began to fade, disoriented and uninteresting.

A heart monitor beeped. It had been for a while. Oddly, it bothered him, enough that he frowned and opened his eyes again, despite body protesting lack of sleep, and puzzled over why the sound was so grating. A second later, he had it: It wasn't his heartbeat beating. It was someone else's.

At that moment Arthur stormed back into the sick bay with a black canvas bag, muttering under his breath. The medic pointedly ignored Ludwig, still miffed, focusing his attention elsewhere. Notably on the other side of the small medical bay... Where, the scavenger suddenly remembered, was another bed.

“...Why won't you wake up?” Arthur murmured. His bag was open, tools sprouting from the edge and Ludwig watched, brows furrowed in thought as the medic administered to some unseen patient blocked from his view. A few minutes of concentrated silence passed, before Arthur shook his head and leaned back.
“I don't understand. There's nothing wrong with you,” he said irritably, falling into a well-known pattern of speaking aloud to imaginary listeners.

Had someone... else... been injured? No, he'd clearly seen Arthur, his brother, and the other two members of the crew, so then who-

Oh.

As Arthur tsk'd under his breath, he was moving aside to examine a problem elsewhere, and as he did, revealed the second patient in the bed to full view, and it was in that moment that Ludwig's breath stuck in his throat as he remembered.

Lying on the bed, as still and quiet as when he had found him, was the stranger from the ruins.

Arthur's attention flicked back to him as he struggled to rise, wanting to see better.
“...Since you're awake, I might as well ask a few questions about... this one,” he said, gesturing downwards to his patient. Ludwig winced as his ribs protested, but more or less managed to push himself into an awkward propped up position. He could actually see the man he had found now. The stranger's hair was still the rich auburn he remembered from the hazy memory of before, but as he stared with sharpened eyes he began to take in details; delicately boned cheeks, the soft hollow of a slender neck, a nose that had never been broken in its life. Blankets rose and fell in the gentle pattern of sleep. In the end, it was almost... eerie, the way the stranger's face was the picture of perfect contentment, despite where he had been found, in the wake of what had happened...

“Ludwig!”

A sharp voice. Ludwig jumped, snapped out of scrutiny.
“I- sorry, what?”
“How did you find him?” Arthur repeated, annoyed. The medic had seated himself squarely between the two patients, waiting for the words from one while keeping an eye on the other. “He isn't- I mean, there's not a single- I've never seen anything like it, and I've never even heard of a base way out here.”
“...I wish I could tell you more,” Ludwig sighed. There was a small ache in his head, and he rubbed at the thick bandages in discomfort. “I simply found him. On the ground.”
“What, just like that? Stop touching those.”
“It's true. I wish I had more information, but...”
“...Did you shield him from the satellite?” the medic questioned, “It would explain a few things if you did.”
“What? No. I found him after.” The scavenger frowned. “Did you say a satellite?”
“Oh. Yes, I did.”

With a deep breath, Arthur squared his shoulders.
“Ludwig, old boy, you must have the most rotten luck in the world,” he said dryly, “If a satellite decided to drop plumb out of orbit right on top of you. Out of all the places it could have bloody landed, your grid was it.”

Ludwig stared. Stared some more.
“A satellite?” he repeated weakly, hardly able to even take in the concept, and Arthur chuckled nervously.
“Hard to believe, isn't it? The strange signals Alfred was getting were actually the thing's landing patterns. Not that they worked. Apparently it crashed a few kilometers off course; which as you know, happened to be in your area. Congratulations.”

The medic threw his hands in the air, shaking his head in exasperation, while Ludwig tried to muster some response other than numb shock, but failed.

A satellite. A satellite. He had nearly been crushed to death by a satellite from space.
“But- why? How?” he groaned, still slightly horrified, “Those don't just decide to fall!”
“How the bloody hell should I know?” the medic said, shrugging, “This one did. Maybe it was in low orbit, maybe it bumped into something and was knocked off course. Either way, it fell, and you almost died.”

Arthur suddenly smiled, a tired smile that spoke volumes of relief. “I must say, though, for all that it decided to land on you, you must have a little bit of good luck in the fact that you lived.”

As quickly as the affection came, it was gone, replaced by a more serious expression as the bushy-browed man gestured once again to the silent second patient.
“Now, you found him after the shock? Are you, well, sure?” He ventured uncertainly, almost disbelievingly, and Ludwig nodded in slow confusion.
“Why? Is there something wrong with him?” he asked, trying to focus on the stranger again.
“Yes. No. Bollocks, that's just it, there's... there's nothing wrong with him. Nothing!”

Arthur wrung his hands, strangling some invisible neck in frustration. “You were caught in the blast, and look like you went through a grinder. This one doesn't have a single scratch on him! There's no head trauma, internal bleeding, broken bones, broken anything! He has normal breathing and blood pressure, normal temperature readings... in all appearances he's simply asleep.”

He'd been growing more flustered by the minute, and the medic stopped to take a deep, calming breath.
“Frankly, I've run all the possible tests I can,” he admitted in a quieter voice, “Everything short of brain scans. If he doesn't wake up by the time we get back to base, I'll run those too. It's just... I swear, the way he looks, and where we found you two, it's as if... as if he fell from the sky.”

A faltering silence. Then Arthur snorted, shaking his head. “Right then, I'm off the deep end if I'm actually contemplating humans falling out of the sky. Tell me my good man, how did you end up in the middle of the bloody crater?”
“The middle?” Having been silent through Arthur's tirade, Ludwig raised an eyebrow.
“Smack in the middle. The satellite itself was true and utterly totaled; look outside, you'll see it smashed itself to pieces.”
“I can't say,” Ludwig said with a shrug, “When I woke up, I wasn't exactly thinking clearly. I simply crawled until I couldn't...” he trailed off, thinking of the dark moments after the thing- no, the satellite- had crashed. Something must have shown in his eyes, as Arthur suddenly broke in with a cheerful “Right! Let's check some of your casts now.”

Up he jumped, forcing Ludwig to lie back down and rummaging through his bag of tools.
“...It's been that long?” Ludwig asked, confused. Healing broken bones with Arthur's serum took a few hours at the least...
“It's been five hours since you managed to reconnect with us, lad,” Arthur supplied the info promptly, “I administered the stuff as soon as I could. Basically treated you right where we found you, you know,” he added, coming up with a flat handheld screen and a long, thin knife. “We had no chance of moving you in the condition you were in. Thus on the ground it was! Including the casts. Moving you to the med bay was the last thing we did. Fancy that.” The medic looked disgusted at this unspeakable breach in protocol, then shook the handheld until it released an off-key hum.

Ludwig processed these words. The corners of his mouth tipped downwards in a faint frown. Something in Arthur's words had seemed… off. What was it...? He'd figure it out. For now, he watched as the medic bent over to run the screen over the scavenger's broken arm, for it was in fact a small, portable X-ray, and Arthur was nodding to himself as he followed the clean, unbroken line of bone illuminated in ghostly white.
“...And everything looks okay there,” he confirmed with some satisfaction. “Hold still please, wouldn't want to cut you up...” Now taking up the thin knife, he took great care in sliding the blade under the heavy cast. Ludwig shivered involuntarily; the metal was icy against his skin.

“DAMMIT, I CAN'T WAIT ANYMORE!”

Arthur jumped a foot in the air, knife jerking perilously. There was a loud tearing sound as the curtain separating the medical bay from the rest of the shuttle was bodily pulled from its rings. Gilbert Beilschmidt had forced his way back in, red eyes glinting and a broad grin plastered across his face.

“What the- BEILSCHMIDT!” Arthur roared indignantly, jumping to his feet and clean forgetting all about the knife, half imbedded in the cast. In the meantime Ludwig went stock-still, not wanting the edge to slice through his skin.
“Man, I spent hours waiting for him to wake up and you can't just kick me out!” Gilbert was arguing, valiantly wrestling against Arthur's attempts to throw him back out; the medic managing quite well despite his smaller physique. He was stuck though when the albino managed to grab at grooves in the metal walls, to which he clung with steely conviction.
“Just... get... out!” the smaller man puffed angrily, grappling awkwardly against the other.
“No!”
“You stupid- yes! This is not a playground, this is a medical facility!”
“It's an extra space in a shuttle, it's not even a proper room, c'mon!”
“Don't you argue with me, you idiot!”
“Yeah? Stupidhead!”
“Wanker!”
“Eyebrows!”
“Prick!”
“Dummkopf-“
“As much as I like listening to y'all fight and stuff, could you boys cut it out and maybe ask Luddy what he actually wants?” A voice drawled out, obviously Alfred from the amusement he was keeping back.
“Oh, yeah! Hey, bro! Bro, tell this guy you want to see me!” Gilbert instantly brightened, though his fingers unfortunately weakened from their iron grip. Arthur promptly dislodged him with a loud war cry, and the two went tumbling to the floor.
“Ah, young love...” Alfred sighed loudly, with heavy emphasis. There was a thwap and a yelp of pain.

“Right then. I suppose it is your choice and all.” The medic returned, rubbing his sore arms and ruffled temper from the whole exchange and grumbling all the way.
“I don't mind. Right now I'd rather have you take the knife back,” Ludwig said faintly, and Arthur jumped in horror as he remembered the rather sharp instrument imbedded perilously close to skin.
“...What? Oh! Of course, terribly sorry...” He hastily took the knife again, splitting the cast neatly down the side in a move that only took a second. It was fairly easy to peel back after that.

In the meantime Gilbert bounced back with a wide grin, dropped down to sit at the foot of Ludwig's bed… and stared. Stared some more. Stared until his eyes started watering and Ludwig felt just a bit awkward from the intensity.
“Did you want to say something, or…?” he said irritably, and Gilbert caught himself in time to scrub furiously at what might have been tears, hiding it with a hysterical sort of giggle.
“Nuh-uh, I wasn’t crying. That- That was just dust from the crater you made! A huge crater!” the albino exclaimed, “What the hell did you do to get yourself in a crater like that? I mean bro, you were- you were ground meat. Why’d you have to go and scare the hell out of me like that, you stupid- god, you idiotic-“

If Arthur and Ludwig realized he was babbling at this point, they didn’t say a word as Gilbert drew a long, shaky breath, crimson eyes reddening further in a way he’d probably deny later. He shuddered, then dropped all pretenses for a uncharacteristically serious expression. Leaning close over his bedridden brother, his next sentence was clear:
“Don’t you ever pull a stunt like this again, do you understand me? Or I swear to god I’ll leave your ass stranded wherever it is, I don’t even care where!” Gilbert threatened, eyes narrowed as they fixed Ludwig with such a glare that he flinched involuntarily.
“Gil, it’s not like-“
“Do you understand me?”
“Gilbert, you’re having a panic attack,” Arthur muttered distractedly, carefully splitting one of the casts on his patient’s leg, “Take deep breaths, I won’t have you passing out when we’re out of bunks.”

The albino blinked, and realized that yes, his breathing was coming in short, uneven patterns, and that Ludwig was looking at him in concern.
“Oh. Um. My bad.” Gilbert gulped some much needed air, calming the trembling in his limbs.
“Ha ha,” he said sheepishly, “Uh, forget that whole thing. Like you’d get a satellite to drop on you on purpose, right? Sheesh, what was I saying? Totally not awesome!”

He burst out laughing. If he had the strength, Ludwig would have face palmed at his brother’s ability to pull a complete one-eighty when it came to moods. In the end, though, he smiled faintly.
“I understand. I won’t let satellites drop on me ever again,” the blond said, letting just a bit of humor creep into his words, and Gilbert sniffed, letting the last of his half-formed tears leak into the fabric of his sleeve.
“I’d hug you again, but this guy here would probably kill me,” he chuckled weakly, and Arthur quickly glared.
“Yes. I would,” he glowered. “Now Ludwig, your right leg isn’t quite up to snuff yet, so the cast stays on there. Your concussion-“

The bushy-browed medic began to ramble out terms and other medical jargon, which the two tuned out instinctively.
“So you just found that guy? Just like that?” Gilbert jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the mystery man in the other cot, the disbelief clear on his face. “Since, you know, he isn’t injured or anything. That’s kind of freaky.”
“…”
“…and in conclusion, I must to ask you to leave the room so that Ludwig can catch up on his sleep. The body does amazing things with a good night’s rest-“
“What!? Hell, I’m not leaving! Here, I’ll sit right here. Go ahead and sleep, Luddy!”
“Er-“
“Are you daft? If I leave you alone, no doubt you’ll manage to aggravate his injuries by being here!”
“Aw, c’mon man! Cut me some slack, he almost died out there!”
“And thank the heavens he didn’t. Now get out.”
“Look here, you-!”

Shifting uncomfortably, Ludwig stared rather helplessly as two faces turned red from mounting tempers. How the two always managed to work themselves up over nothing, he’d never know. Would he even be able to stop them…?
“Hey, both of you…” He began, irritation creeping into his words, but it didn’t even register as they ignored him and continued to argue.

“Guess what? You guys weren’t even bothering to find him when the radio blew! It was only me!” Gilbert snarled, red eyes flashing, while Arthur bristled in response.
“Alfred and Kiku were doing everything they could to reach him, and we went over all possible options when we regained contact! Don’t you dare suggest otherwise! We were following the code of common sense and nothing more!”
“WHICH WOULD HAVE MEANT LEAVING HIM THERE!”
“Gilbert Beilschmidt you are just as aware on how things work in this god-forsaken wasteland as we are which means you must be prepared for when things go beyond your control!”

...At some point, Ludwig realized, the argument had gone from the usual clash of egos to something far more charged. There was something he had missed out on feeding into the tension in the air, growing thicker by the second...

“Don’t talk to me like that. Don’t talk about my brother like that.” The albino was quivering. Instead of angry red, he’d gone white, all the color bleached from his face.
“Maybe you should wake up and look at the facts. The fact we regained contact with Ludwig was a miracle. The fact that we got to him as fast as we did, however, was decidedly… not.”

Opposite him, Arthur had fallen into a deadly calm, thick brows furrowed as he stared the other down. But his teeth were grinding as he spat out his words.

“Coming here to rescued your brother was a gamble, Beilschmidt, one that, as of yet, we do not know the outcome of.”
“If we hadn’t-!“
“Do not get me wrong, I do not regret it! In your shoes, I would have acted the same! But please keep your head and think, that in your insistence on rescuing your brother, you pressured us all in to performing a ruddy-“

“WOAH, HA HA, EVERYBODY STOP ARGUING AND CALM DOWN!”

In mid-sentence, Alfred F. Jones burst into view, blue eyes wide in panic and arms flailing as he abruptly jarred all words from emerging. Gilbert and Arthur snapped to attention as one, glaring at the interruption from the team’s best navigator. Said navigator was fidgeting nervously in place, eyes darting back and forth behind wire-rimmed glasses.
“Um… yeah,” he said lamely, quickly lowering his hands to his side. “Er, Luddy needed rest, right? He totally can’t relax with the racket you guys are making. It was getting pretty intense! Uh, haha, Kiku was getting nervous, and I think things were going in a weird direction…?”

He scratched his head, scattering strands of blond while an odd expression came over the contender’s faces.
“Oh. Bollocks,” Arthur muttered, looking horrified. “G-Gilbert, I didn’t mean.”
“Nah. It’s cool. Crap.” Gilbert himself was suddenly grim, dropping his head with a grimace. “I think we said too much…”

“Would someone…” Ludwig growled, having been soundly ignored for the entirety of the last few minutes and quite fed up with it,

“…Please tell me what the hell is going on here?”

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...In which I find I haven't worked on this as much as I should have. Gonna try and change that, but for now I hope this chapter is enjoyed.