Locked Away (GerIta)

Chapter 41

Ludwig sat at the kitchen table alone, pushing around a few roasted potatoes around his plate. Everyone had left to go out for dinner but he didn't want to join them.

They'd tried to include him in the things they did but he always refused. Politely, but still. It frustrated some of them, especially Tom and Harry but Aurora and Jack were patient with him. They made him dinner before they went out so he wouldn't be hungry.

The German ate some things but not much. He never felt quite hungry, his stomach always churned at the thought of eating a full plate.

He grunted and pushed away from the table, glaring down at the remainder of his dinner. He paced, fists clenching as he stormed into the living room, stopping to look at the cushioned sofa, the lace curtains, the leather suitcase they'd filled with clothes for him.

It can't be this way. I don't deserve it. This isn't right, not for me, why would they help me?

Ludwig shouted a curse as he went back into the kitchen and smashed his plate on the floor, the shatter overwhelming the small space. He mumbled furiously, swearing and crying as he swiped things off of the counters, threw a soapbar against the shower's tiled wall and ripped its curtain down.

Ludwig's eyes blurred and his mind raced at the pace of his heart and everything wasn't okay. He didn't stop, just caused distruction with his bare hands and finally slumped against the wall when there was nothing more to break. He covered his face with his hands and crumpled into a ball, rocking back and forth as he chanted to himself, bloody knuckles throbbing.

The person pounding on the room's door only sounded like soft bumps over the harrowing sobs that escaped from deep within his chest.

~

Jack, Aurora, Tom and Harry ran up the stairs, the front desk warning them of what they'd heard. Aurora set some ground rules for them, mumbling quickly and making sure they knew not to approach Ludwig angrily.

Jack shouted at the few people who stood in front of their door, whispering as he ushered them back down the hall. Harry tried to open the door but it was locked, shaking the door knob and cursing loudly. Jack didn't waste anytime and rammed into the wood with his shoulder, bursting into the room.

It was wrecked. Table flipped onto it's side, lamp shades thrown and their respective lightbulbs shattered. Couch cushions kicked to the floor, newspaper torn in half, and there he sat, the eye of the storm.

His eyes were red, lip chewed raw, knuckles bruised and bloody, hands clutching a glass bottle of whiskey. He sat muttering to himself as tears dripped onto his shirt, bottle clumsily brought to his lips as its burning contents barely made it into his mouth.

Jack and Harry slowly approached him, gently prying the bottle from his grip.

"Too much." He mumbled. Then he raised his voice, finally reaching an intimidating shout, "too much! It's all new and I hate you all, don't need your help!"

Jack and Harry dragged him up onto his feet and supported his weight as he continued rambling. "Don't need all these clothes, gonna die soon. Don't need 'em. And the food too, don't feed a dead man walking. Not eating. Too much, too normal, too comfortable."

Jack rubbed his back as they lead him down the hallway. "Okay, lad. Alright, you just make it to the car with us."

Tom kept people back, shouting at them to mind their own business.

"Soldier with PTSD, never seen it? Keep your noses out of it." He warned.

Aurora grabbed his arm and they ran down to the car, lowering Ludwig into the back. He muttered incoherent sentences, limply supported by the seat.