GermanyXMute!Reader: Silent Sparrow pt. 4

A loud slam at the door snapped my attention out of the paperwork I was completing.  I turned my head to see _______ dashing up the stairs to her room.  Something didn't seem right.  She usually said hello at least when she came home from the store.  I got up to see the plastic grocery bags at the door; their contents spilt all over the floor, as though hastily thrown upon the ground.

My gut twisted slightly.  Something was definitely wrong.  I made my way up the stairs to _______'s room.  Her door was still wide open.  She was lying curled up on her bed, her shoulders heaving with quaking breaths.

I knocked politely on the doorframe, the small rapping very quiet and gentle.  She lethargically lifted her face out of the (favorite color) comforter.  It was red and swollen.  

'Come in,' she signed half-heartedly, then placed her head back into her soft (favorite color) blankets.

I sat down on the side of her bed, the springs groaning under my added weight.  "What happened, Sparrow?" I asked concernedly.  She had left the house so cheery and upbeat and had come back crying hysterically.

_______ didn't look up for a few minutes.  She simply continued to cry into the fluffy blanket.  I waited until she was done.  I knew that she would answer me when she was ready.  

After a few minutes of silent sobs, ______ sat up slowly.  Her head hung down with her (h/c) hair shielding her face from view.

Without looking up, she signed to me, 'Ludwig,' "L" with the symbol for strong, 'do you think I'm a freak for not being able to talk?'

I placed my hand on her thin shoulder. "Of course not," I whispered emphatically.
  
'Well,' she signed, 'the cashier at the store decided it did.'  A few fresh tears traced down her face as she remembered something.
  
I kept a quiet understanding face on around ________, but inside, I wanted to storm over and rip that cashier limb from limb.

I reached my arms around her and held her to me.  "What does he know?  He doesn't know you or what you've been through."  I rubbed her back slightly as I rocked her fragile body back and forth.  "You are the strongest, bravest, most beautiful person I know, and don't you ever forget it."

She said nothing, but hugged me back.  Through her touch, I could hear the shame that still lingered from the encounter.


                                          ***

I was tucking _________ into bed, her limp body sighing quietly, when I saw a small pile of papers stuffed under her nightstand.  Curiosity got the better of me.  I carefully pulled the folded papers out from the floor.  I instantly recognized my Sparrow's neat, flowing handwriting.  I riffled through the many little messages, letting my eyes rest on the sentences that stuck out at me.
     
'…What I miss most about this is singing.  I wish I could sing again.  Even signing can't help me with that.'
  
'…Could I ever go through with this surgery?  I almost don't want to do it.  I can sign to tell people how I feel and how I'm doing, and I may not even speak with the surgery…  I won't do it!  I'll tell Ludwig my decision tonight…'

'I don't care if it's not the best option! I'm getting that surgery!  I can't stand not being able to talk on my own!  Why can't I just talk!  I have a right to speak without a translator, don't I?  DON'T I?'

'I can't do it…I just want it to end...'

It shocked me just how raw and varied _______'s unspoken thoughts were.  She still, after having progressed so far, had fears and doubts and moments of sorrow.  I glanced over to ______'s bed.  Her serene face belied her troubled thoughts.  I brought my attention back to the notes _______ had written.
  
'I wish I could just express myself better.  I'm so grateful to everything Ludwig and Gilbert and everyone have done for me, but I just want to say something on my own.'

An idea formed in my head.
  
                                               ***


"Good morning!  Glad to see you, _______," Gilbert signed as she made her way to the breakfast table.  ________'s eyes took on a moment of shock as she gazed at the table:  we had a guest this morning.
  
"Good morning, _______.  How are you?"

________'s face spread into a grin.  'Uncle Roderich!'  ________ spelled his name out quickly with her hand as she ran forward to hug him.  Being a neighbor and close friend of mine, Roderich and _______ became very close.  It was actually Roderich that taught _______ to sing when she was little.  

"It's good to see you," the stiff aristocrat smiled.
  
________ pulled back and signed, 'It's good to see you too.' Gilbert translated some-what reluctantly.
  
"Thank you, Gilbert," Roderich stiffly replied.

Gilbert nodded at him in indifference.  It was no secret that the two were not exactly friends.  Gilbert more put up with Roderich than anything else.  On a good day, he actually wouldn't attempt to glue the "damn aristocrat" to his piano seat.

'What are you doing here?' _______ signed, eyes flashing with excitement.

After Gilbert translated, he turned his bespectacled eyes to hers, a hint of a smile playing in them.  "It's a surprise," he replied simply.
  
A playful pout graced Sparrow's pretty face.  'Why won't you tell me?'  she signed, a joking whine flowing from her hands.
  
Roderich sipped his tea nonchalantly.  "That would ruin the surprise."

"He's right," I replied, slipping into my "big brother voice".  "Finish your breakfast and get dressed and you can figure out what Roderich's surprise is."

________ had never been one to resist a surprise.  Her bright (e/c) eyes glittered with anticipation and impatience as she ate--or rather, inhaled--her oatmeal.  As soon as the majority of the sticky-sweet paste was consumed, _______ dropped her spoon in the bowel with a clatter and dashed up the stairs to her room.

I looked over at my brow-haired, stern-faced friend, "It seems your visit has already cheered her up."

"Of course," he replied in his shamelessly arrogant voice, "I'm her favorite uncle."  I could see Gilbert dramatically pretending to gag himself with a spoon at this comment.  "But I'm here for a reason, and I'll see to it that it is accomplished."

  
                                   ***


________ bounced down the stairs with poorly-concealed excitement.  She looked neat as a pin and as bright as a daisy, deceptive of her extreme sadness the other day.
  
'What's the surprise?!  What's the surprise?!' she signed so quickly her hands blurred the words so it looked more like, 'Whatsthesurprise?! Whatsthesurprise?!'
  
Roderich's commonplace mien of detached aloofness was replaced by a genuine smile that reached all the way to his normally critical purple eyes.  "Calm down, _______.  Follow me and I'll show you."
  
In that second, ________ became Roderich's second shadow.  She followed no less than two steps directly behind him as he walked out of the dining room and into the sitting room.  The grand golden walls and sumptuous furniture had always fascinated ______, but Roderich drew her attention to the Grand Piano enthroned in the center of the ornate room.

He placed the tails of his purple coat off the edge of the small wooden seat and sat down with all the formality and dignity of an eagle perching upon a tree.  With no further introduction, Roderich began to play.

It was a piece of music I had never heard before:  likely a newly composed movement of his.  His head swayed and his body flowed as his fingers gave birth to the driving notes.  They were at once saddening and beautiful.  It seemed like he had taken the very essence of sorrow and placed it in the chords echoing and reechoing in the room.  I felt myself relive the past months:  the accident, the hospital, the challenges, the pain and emptiness in ______'s eyes.

I didn't notice that I had been crying until the lithe man on the piano wove the final chord of his magic spell.  I dabbed my eyes quickly with my sleeve.  As I did so, I noticed, that Gilbert was reluctantly moved as I had been.  We both were desperately hoping the other would not see our weakness.
  
_________ applauded furiously.  There was a fire in her eyes that was not the result of the salt water turning them red.  Some hunger seemed to have been awakened within her, some longing.
  
As Roderich turned away from the impressive black instrument, he slid to the far right of the black seat.  Turning his head to ______, he motioned her over.  ________ obeyed willingly.  She sat next to him, looking expectantly at him.
  
"I am going to teach you to play," Roderich stated solemnly without prologue.  _______ blinked with disbelief at first.  It was the sort of shocked, joyous disbelief one sees on the face of a child learning that an unthought-of but always dreamed-of gift was now theirs.
  
Her lips turned up into an eager smile.  'Really, Uncle Roderich?'
  
Roderich nodded.  "I will teach you everyday for as long as you want,"  the aristocrat assured her.
  
Facing the piano, he spoke again, "The piano will speak for you now," he lightly caressed the keys as he spoke, "it will tell the world everything you want to tell it.  It will convey every feeling you want to have people feel, or simply display a piece of art for them to enjoy.  I will teach you to use it however you want to."

_________ sat awestruck for a few moments, then placed her fingers on the ebony and ivory keys.  She turned her head to face Roderich, her (e/c) eyes set with determination.

"Let us begin then."