The time was World War Two, specifically when the Nazis invaded the Soviet Union; it was the largest operation in all of history, and it was called Operation Barbarossa. It was on the first day, June 22 of 1941 that this story begins…
"AGH!" The shell whistled past Prussia's ear, exploding some distance behind him. Where was Germany? When were all these cannons going to stop? Prussia shook his head, trying to get it back in the battle. Although the Red Army seemed to be dropping like flies, they still put up a good fight. And now they had taken his brother…
Nein, nein, nein, nein! They hadn't taken his little bro; the albino had just lost sight of him, right? He tried to calm his nerves because there was nothing to worry about. West could take care of himself if he ever needed to, and it wasn't like he was going to get knocked down by a Slav of all people. There was nothing to worry about, nothing to worry about; there was nothing to worry about… Prussia shot some soldier in the head and took a shaky breath. He scanned the battle field, noticing that they were almost done here. With less of a threat, the albino could calmly go look for his brother, and everything would be alright.
After a moment or two, someone shot the last man standing and there was a sudden silence. Then whoops and cheers sounded out through the remaining Nazis (which was a rather large crowd) creating a large ruckus. Prussia sighed with relief, now he could go look for his brother in peace. The albino walked forward, stepping over the bodies of the fallen Soviets. For a short instance, Prussia felt a little bit of sympathy for the bodies on the ground. They did just slaughter them, giving them next to no chance of survival. Although, there could be some still left…
Prussia looked off to the distance, crimson eyes glistening. Not far off was a small tent that still stood standing, and Prussia ran off to it. There could be still some left! They could have his brother and, and they could be doing something to him! Or worse, he could be dead, killed by those undesirable Slavs! Prussia was taught to expect the unexpected, but all he could think about was his brother.
As he neared the tent, Prussia slowed down, heart pounding in his chest. There was a box of sorts, and the albino could hear soft whimpering coming from behind. A lock of light colored hair could be seen sticking out from above, and it wasn't blonde so… Who could this person be? Prussia took a step forward, gun at the ready. If it wasn't West, it could be a Soviet that was ready to kill him. Although there was a low probability of that, seeing as he (Prussia suspected he was a guy) was injured.
Prussia stood in front of the person and looked him over. The man looked like what Prussia thought was a generic Russian, big-nosed, probably really tall, broad, so on. Although, the most notable feature was his eyes; they were lavender, and he had a faraway look in them. A scarf was wrapped loosely around his neck… Wait a minute…
"RUSSIA?!" Prussia exclaimed loudly, a look of disbelief written across his face. The man who may or may not be Russia snapped his head up and then tilted it to the side, eyes narrowed.
"Teutonic Knights?" Russia asked with a heavy accent. Prussia covered his mouth, silently mouthing 'Holy cow!' He didn't think it could have been him at first, but now looking over the guy again the face was the same, he was just so huge! Prussia nearly jumped up with whatever confusing emotion he felt right now. Russia looked at him with an inquisitive face, probably wondering what he was doing.
"Yes," The albino breathed, "Yes, it's me, Teutonic Knights. Although not anymore, not anymore."
Russia smiled softly, "Ok, but who are you now? You are still same, da?" The Russian suddenly hacked loudly and Prussia winced.
"Are, are you okay?" Prussia kneeled next to him, in a pool of blood. He looked down for a second, and then looked over Russia himself, noting all of the injuries.
Russia had a long gash across his forehead that was streaming blood on his face. Also, he was holding on tightly to his bloody and filthy arm. Prussia tried to take a closer look at his arm, but the scared Russian pulled it away. Prussia frowned, tearing off one of the only clean parts of his clothing, and then used it to clean up Russia's wounds. When he got to the forehead Russia flinched so hard that Prussia flinched too.
"Oi, calm down. Shhh…" The Prussian put pressure on the wound until it stopped bleeding. He then moved down to Russia's arm and made that stop bleeding too. "Zhere, all better right?"
Russia responded by giving Prussia a big hug. He muttered a small thank you as Prussia laid his head on his shoulder.
"…Yeah, anytime." Prussia smiled. Apparently it did feel good to help people…
…
"Oh, you found zheir nation, bruder? Looks like ve are going to haz to take him to ze camp then." Prussia's eyes widened as he looked up. There stood his own brother, with the largest and cruelest smile he had ever seen ever.
HAHAHAHA, dat plot twist tho! I am so evil :D. Poor Russia though, someone had brought a knife to the gun fight. Oh well. ^J^