A/N So I finally written a PruCan fic after reading the paring for so long. meh. Alright so I'll try to keep this short cause I know none of you want to read these things they call Authors Notes anyway... Getting back to what I wanted to say this is a spin off thing from my NaNoWriMo, something I will post eventually after I finnish and edit it with equal amounts of coffee and lack of sleep as it took to write, and it is my first real attempt to write a historical fiction story. (Taking place after the creation of the Berlin Wall.) So if I make any mistakes regarding the history in that time period notify me and I will do my best to change it. Also I'm using Google Translate for all the French and German (do I have german in here?) that is in this story, except for the very limited vocabulary of French that I have gotten from my French 1 class at school. If there are any gapping mistakes in these parts feel free to review or pm me. That's all I really have to say so enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia Axis Powers. I'm not even Japanese.
edit: 3/10/12
I'm in the process of going through my story and editing it. So this is the edited version of the first chapter.
Much thanks must be given to my new awesome beta LilacsAndVelvet for help with this.
"Stop! Just stop," I can't stand it anymore, it's tearing me apart. Why can't it just end?
Those cold violet eyes and heartless laugh haunt me; haunt me when the sun is above my head and while I am trying to sleep. My fears cause me to wake up shivering in a cold sweat, screaming my lungs out. I'm falling apart, fighting to break free, I am a caged bird who longs for the sky. My people are restless too, I can feel it. I can feel the wariness, the anxiety; it's pounding in my veins.
Through the small window, in the room that has become my prison, I see an arc of light flash across the sky.
'Make a wish.' Elizaveta's voice rings in my head.
'I wish I could leave this place. I wish someone would rescue me.' It's horridly selfish, and just so unrealistic. In the time I've spent here I've come to realize how much the little things really matter. If any of my wishes were granted, they would be used on the little things I should cherish. I'm so desperate, just so desperate, what I wouldn't do for just a tiny speck of luck.
"I wish I could see, mein bruder Ludwig, again. To whoever reviews these wishes, I would like to see the Canadian man I met a while before, as well."
"Arrêt Ivan. Arrêt!"
Violet eyes lock with the same, familiar violets of the other, Ivan couldn't help but chuckle as Matthew glared at him.
"S'il vous plaît, Russe." The Canadian's pleading French words pleased Ivan to no end.
"You have taken a liking to him. Da?"
The Canadian's eyes hardened. "Ferme la bouche!" He snapped.
The Russian man was chuckling deeply now. It is just so fun to wind up Kanada, Da?
"Bruder!"
His fists pounded against the stone, as if he thought the weakening rapping on the wall would cause it to crumble, and fall.
"Bruder! Westen! Bruder!"
His cries were frantic now, tears spilling over onto pale cheeks. A week! He had been gone a week. Out of nowhere this thing, this mass of concrete, was stopping him from seeing his family, his brother, his friends: Ludwig, Lizzy, Francis, Toni, Roddy... He would probably never get see them again. He slumped down against the wall, knees curled into his chest and sighed. The small iron cross that he always wore slipped out from underneath his leather jacket.
Gone everything was gone. His life was being torn into shreds around him, yet there was not a thing he could do about it. He was powerless, trapped, and slowly being broken. He was a caged bird, a bird trapped in a land that wasn't home. Why couldn't one of the Soviet soldiers come and shoot him? If he was going to be trapped here, was there a reason to be living?
"H-Hey." A soft voice breathed to his right. Crimson eyes immediately shot open to take in his surroundings. He had been here Gott knows how long, wallowing in his own self-pity. In front of him was an angel peering at him over rectangular framed glasses. "Are you alright?" This time, he could tell that the voice came from the figure in front of him.
"Am I dead?" Everything around him looked to be blanketed in a white mist; the angel in front of him offered a hand, one that he took gratefully. Had he finally been set free?
A pair of violet eyes looked at him quizzically. "I don't think so. I'm not dead, and I don't think you are either." His vision cleared, and he saw that wall, that thing that he hated with a burning passion, in his blurred side vision. The figure in front of him was not an angel but merely a man. A man that had by chance come across him in this state. He had no wings, no halo, so naturally, he could not be dead. "Come." His hand was tugged on lightly, making him take an uneasy step forward. "Let's get you out of here before any of the guards come."
At last they had reached the shelter of the buildings; great mountains of limestone and brick looming over them. It was then that the man, who he had just met, took his chance to scold him. "What were you doing there? You could have been killed!" Purpled orbs squinted at him but they were not full of anger like the voice would have suggested, but merely fear. Could it be for him?
He shrugged. "What if I wanted to..?" He left the question hanging but it was clear what he had been asking. While the other man stared at him in disbelief, he took this chance to take in the appearance of the man who had probably saved his life (for better of for worse). Shoulder length strawberry blond hair framed his small face. A few wayward strands sticking out from the side, one even in the shape of a strange looking curl. Piercing violet eyes hid behind rectangular glasses, and a heavy tan, fur line coat draped across his shoulders.
"What happened?" The voice was quieter than it had been before, barely above a whisper.
"I woke up and went to go see my brother, and it was just there. Just there standing in my way." His voice was breaking and he heard it. He was barely able to make out the words, because stating the facts meant he had to except that it had happened.
"You're one of the lucky ones." The look in the other's eyes was so melancholy, so full of sadness that he got the impression that the man was talking about himself. "At least you actually live here." He didn't want to pry, but it was obvious that in this moment, everything was better left unsaid.
"So you live in the west side?"
He shook his head. "No I'm from Canada. I was visiting my brother in the American section when I got stuck on this side when the wall was put up." He looked at the other, but he didn't even seem fazed, almost as if he had gotten over this fact long ago. Like the man had just accepted the fact that he couldn't get home or see his family. As for him, he couldn't imagine ever coming to terms with that. He just..couldn't.
He supposed in a way this man did have it worse than him, separated from his family and everything he called home. He couldn't imagine ever having to live like that, yet here he was, separated from his friends and family himself. Life was just like that, he mused. Throwing things at you, things that you never thought you could live through and yet you had no choice but to take what you are given. He took pity on the one who had pulled him away from the wall, away from his own self-pity. "Come on, you can stay at my place for now."
It was then he realized that he didn't even know the other's name. Somehow he felt familiar, like he had known the other from some time in his past. He supposed it was entirely possible that they had met in passing. Perhaps they had met at some sort of event somewhere. A short fleeting moment of eye contact or something, but he felt like he had a conversation with the man, A meaningful one at that. He just couldn't seem to place it. He knew it had happened but he couldn't remember where and why. Perhaps it was just déjà vu, his brain trying to comfort him by implying that he had connection with a stranger, with this stranger.
"Do I know you?" Despite the fact that it was pounding in his head, begging him to find out, he felt so strange when he had finally asked it, as if he was opening the door to making things awkward between them. Like he was opening the box to see if Schrodidnger's cat was still alive, and even if he know the odds are against it his hut was telling him the opposite. Well the only thing he could do now was wait and find out. Dear Gott he hated waiting. Oh well patience was a virtue, they said. It was just too bad he lacked it.
"I don't think so... I've never really been to Germany before. You seem familiar though." Oh well then. The silence that settled itself between them was awkward to say in the least. Hanging heavy like a thick mist; Impenetrable and deep, weighing everything down. He felt like he could swing a sword through it, slicing it in half, and it would feel like his arms were swimming in putty. He wasn't the only one who felt like that, that was a good thing, Right? Or maybe the other was just saying that to make it less awkward between them. Either way, it hadn't helped their situation.
"Oh, okay then. Um... uh well I don't really know what to call you. Er..." His voice was unstable, unsure how to continue. He didn't want to dig into the other's privacy.
"Oh yeah, I haven't introduced myself. Well, je m'appelle Matthieu." He looked at the other in confusion. It wasn't that he didn't understand that small amount of French, just that he hadn't been expecting the other to start speaking in it. He seemed to realize that he had switched into another language, "Oops. Sorry. I tend to switch into French sometimes without thinking, Just a habit. My father was french, so it was spoken at home. Um.. well, my name is Matthew. Matthew Williams."
"The name's Gil." He replied. "Though, some call me Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt." He felt weird, now that the other knew his name, he should probably be calling Matthew now, but "The other" worked too, he reasoned.
Matthew looked at him confused. Finally realizing what he had agreed to. "I don't have to stay with you if you don't want me to. I'll be perfectly fine on my own." Taking another look at him he could tell that Matthew wouldn't be fine on his own. He was lost in city he didn't know his way around, with no way to get back to his family. Even before the wall had been put up, actually, he didn't know when it had been put up; he had stayed inside the last couple days. Soviet guards had patrolled the eastern side of the city. Matthew would get into trouble, deep trouble if caught.
At least if he was with Gilbert he would have a chance, a chance at survival.
"It's nothing. It's the least I can do. Anyway, the awesome me has been wanting some company for a while. So, you will be doing me a favor anyway. I could use some human interaction, it's not like I'll be seeing my friends and/or brother anytime soon." He was doing what he had said he couldn't imagine doing. Talking about a thing that he didn't want to accept... talking about not being able to see his family. That's when he fell apart, truly crying for the first time in years. Tears streamed down his face, releasing as if a dam had just crumbled. He hated himself when he was like this. It made him weak, it made him human. It was at times like these that he wished he could pull off his brother's emotionless facade. Not sad, not angry, not caring, just watching, just waiting. His brother was an expert at that and he teased him about it daily. Now though, he wished he could be like that too; not showing weakness in front of this stranger. Although maybe, just maybe he could be himself around someone, someone who liked him for himself, whether or not he was an emotional wreck at the time.
He would like that. He really would.
If this man, who he had just met could be that person? Well, then Gilbert wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Matthew, as he was called, had already proven that he didn't care if he was an emotional mess. In fact, Matthew hadn't even seen him when he wasn't an emotional wreck so there was no downside. If he was willing to stay at his house after seeing him like this, he doubted he could get much worse, and if he did...Matthew seemed like the person who wouldn't care.
As he slid the key into the key slot the street was quiet enough that he could hear the small click, signifying that the door had been unlocked. They, as in Matthew and him, had walked the rest of the route to his apartment in utter silence. It might not be much, but it was home and to him that was all that mattered. He voiced these thoughts to Matthew, and the other agreed wholeheartedly being used to a small, almost cottage like, house in Canada. He was right, in reality, his home was nothing much, a small combined living room kitchen area with three doors leading to two bedrooms and a shared bathroom. The room facing towards the east, was his own. The one in the middle was the bathroom, and the one facing the west on the far right was his guest room. It was surprisingly clean for him being him, but that was most likely a side effect of the fact that was where his brother slept when he had visited. Ludwig was probably the most organized person anyone could ever, and/or will ever, meet.
As he led Matthew into his flat, he realized just how much of a mess his living room actually was. He had been house bound the last couple days and had not been expecting anyone over in a while. In the corner, a bird cage had been stashed. Thrown haphazardly over it was a sheet; the ones used to trick birds into believe it was night. Littered all over but mostly conjoined on the coffee table were bottles of beer. That was only just the beginning of the mess. He showed Matthew to the spare room, and after telling him 'If you need anything, just ask.'
He ran back to the living room to open the bird cage. The hatch was released and an adorable yellow chick fluttered out. Gilbert ran his fingers through the soft feathers of his winged friend, preening him. Despite everything that was going on around him, Gilbird always managed to make him feel better. "You're a good little bird aren't you?" He cooed. "You'll be wanting some food now, won't you?" And that was the scene that Matthew walked into. If he didn't think Gilbert was strange, well he did now.
Gilbert didn't know this yet, but these were just the beginnings of the days to come. The night would only get darker and darker until dawn came, to shine in its rosy glory, pulling the morning sun from its hiding place, for all to see.
He just didn't know how much worse it could get, but, frankly he didn't want to know.
A/N Reviews are like an authors coffee, actually both are needed but I digress. I'm in the process of editing the next couple chapters so expect an update soon...ish.
