(Before you begin reading, I'd like to let you know that the version of 'If I Die Young' used in this is a MALE COVER. Therefore, the lyrics are not the same. I also altered it a little bit later on so it fits more with Gilbert. owo" Also, for some reason, flashbacks won't italicize, so I apologize ahead of time about that... I decided to try centering them and the lyrics. So... I hope that works...)
He stood all alone in the cold, bitter downpour. There was nothing there to shelter him, nor was there anyone to talk to, not that he really wanted to to talk to anyone at the moment. His mind was whirling with memories from what seemed like another lifetime, so close to him, and yet, still so very far away. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back and allowed his body to mold into the rain. "How unawesome," he whispered with a sad laugh, tears mixing with the precipitation's brutal onslaught. "How unawesome that I'm gonna die as a mortal..."
If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song, mm
Truth be told, Gilbert Beilschmidt knew that after his dissolution, the masses would forget he ever really existed, and though that harsh reality had made itself a present thorn in his heart, he was, in a sense, alright with it. After all, why hang around when no one remembers who you are?
He just wished he had the courage and the bravery that he once had so he'd be able to tell his little brother about what was going to happen. He wished, for once in his life, that he could suck up his pride and his majestically large ego so he could say goodbye to his friends. Just once...
As per usual, he couldn't. All he could bring himself to do was let out another melancholy snicker and wonder, briefly, why he had to go.
It wasn't fair. But honestly, when does life play by the rules?
Gilbert placed a hand on his chest, feeling the fading beat of his heart.
Lord, make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother
She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors
Oh, and life ain't always what you think it oughta be, no
Ain't even gray but she buries her baby
Rain drizzled down on a small child of around twelve years old. He looked up, ruby red eyes sparkling against his dim surroundings. The year was 1525, and the little boy with pure white hair found himself all alone in this unforgiving storm.. His gratitude for such things could be greatly directed towards the Polish royalty. As of now, he was merely a fief to them, a small piece of land belonging to Poland.
He choked back the tears that were threatening to make their presence known. "Zis is so unawesome!" he wailed in frustration. "I-I don't like zeeze people at all! Zey're so mean! V-Vy can't I have a home, too? Z-Zey keep saying zat I'm a demon! But I'm not! I just vant food and vater! Anysing to make mein belly stop hurting!" At the mention of his stomach, it gave a loud grumble and he placed his hands over his abdomen, tears finally sliding down his pallor cheeks. He brought his legs up to his chest and buried his face in his knee caps, despite how uncomfortable it was. "Ze only demons here are zem..."
For the small child, years passed in the blink of an eye. He found himself, now, standing beside a young, blonde male who closely resembled a woman. A smirk remained ever present on said blonde's face and he kneeled down beside the albino. "Seems you'll be joining with me, little Prus-ski," he chimed, poking the smaller boy's cheek.
Gilbert immediately swatted his hand away. He mustered up his best glare, one that he'd deemed to be so superiorly awesome that anyone within a mile would die on the spot. But the blonde didn't even flinch. Instead, his smirk only grew. "Such a feisty child, aren't we, little Duchy Prus-ski?"
"Mein name is Gilbert! Ze awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt und if ju don't stop calling me Prus-ski, I'm going to kick-ski ju in jur imagingary balls!"
Poland snickered menacingly and stepped away from Gilbert. "Prussia, one day, you will fall. And you will be doing the falling hard. And when you do, I'm going to laugh and take every bit of the land you harbor, and I'm going to be watching you do the deed of dying for me." Prussia glared daggers at the other nation, vowing to himself that he'd never fall, not until Poland did. "Oh, and by the way, you will be getting to do the knowing of me very well! My name is Feliks. And you are my servant now... Gil-ski."
On the blonde's way out, Gilbert heard something that made his eyes water. He should have been used to hearing it by then, but it still hurt... "...Little devil..."
Gilbert found it funny how he'd allowed his feet to wander while his mind did the same thing. Even this close to death, he found himself to be the same free spirit he used to be, always drifting off wherever the wind deemed it right to take him.
The sharp knife of a short life
And I've had just enough time
Time flew by as it always did, and inevitably, Royal Prussia was fully integrated into the Polish kingdom, much to Gilbert's dismay. Every waking hour, he was serving Feliks Lukasiewicz. Although he hated the blonde with every fiber in his body, he was grateful that he had clothes on his back and a small meal to eat on throughout the day. However, the other part of Prussia that Feliks did not own, was undergoing a lot of pressure from political build ups. Often times, Gilbert found himself in a bind. He would sit in a dark corner holding his head and his chest from the pain, while Feliks yelled at him from down stairs.
Gilbert had come to realize that his 'master' was more or less an idiot, but did he really harbor no feelings for what the albino was going through? Was he really this big of an apathetic jerk?
Gilbert found relief when the year 1657 rolled around. An elector in Brandenburg, who went by the name of Frederick William, severed the link between Ducal Prussia and Poland. Little Gilbert had never felt more relieved. When the treaty of Wehlau was signed, he couldn't help but laugh arrogantly.
He ran out of the grand halls Feliks had made a home in, and, when Feliks began chasing after him, he turned around and threw a bird in the air. "Suck it, loser! I knew mein awesomeness vould set me free! Now who's going to fall first?! JU ARE!"
Gilbert ran his fingers through his soaking wet hair, sighing softly. There was a faint smile on his face, though it, like Canada, was practically invisible. Funny how back then, even when he was in so much pain, he thought he was invincible. Yet, now, he knew nothing lasted forever, even immortality. Everything would eventually fall. Everything would crumble, and he'd watch the world fall to its feet, screaming in sheer agony. Of course, his knees would buckle first.
Being such a powerful nation back than, it was nice...
But everything nice comes to an end...
Suddenly, the albino was thrown back in time again. However, he was even younger.
White robes billowed in the breeze and Gilbert raised his sword high overhead. He felt so powerful, so amazing, standing up here in front of this organization- in front of the Teutonic Knights. HIS Teutonic Knights. 1409 was the pride of Prussia's order. They were at the peak of their greatness. They never imagined that they could fall. But in 1410, they did just that.
The battle at Tannenberg left Gilbert utterly crushed. His heart ached and burned and he found himself drowning in tears and pools of his knights' blood. His outfit was permanently stained red with the loss. The cross in the middle, however, remained unaffected.
Gilbert crawled over to Ulric de Jungingen and cradled the still and lifeless body of the Grand Master in his trembling arms. He looked up at Russia, Lithuania, and Poland. "...I vill kill all of ju for zis..." he whispered vehemently, pulling the corpse closer to his chest.
Russia knelt down beside the albino, smiling. "I dare you to be trying it, da?" He pulled one of his gloves off and ran his bare fingers across a cut on Gilbert's cheek. Ruby eyes widened and amethyst irises darkened. Bloodied fingers met the Russian's lips and he chuckled darkly. "You will not be touching me, little devil."
Gilbert took a deep breath. Despite the soul crushing defeat in 1410, he still found pride in being the main orchestra-tor of the Teutonic Knights, and he always would.
If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
The sharp knife of a short life
And I've had just enough time
The rain grew more intense. The sky darkened and the clouds grew thicker with water. Who knew the sky could cry so hard? "Ju know ju're being really unawesome right now, don't ju?!" Gilbert yelled, glaring upwards.
Several people turned to look at him, but when he saw them staring, and when they realized they'd been caught, they averted their gaze and looked elsewhere.
However, those who had found themselves staring at the albino couldn't ever really stop. His image was permanently etched into their memories. He looked so pathetic in the miserable downpour, and he was just standing out there in it like it didn't bother him. He was obviously cold, but aside from that, he looked tired. Black bags hung under his lack luster violet eyes, another sign that he was dying. And his already pale skin had lost what little color it had left.
In 1740, a man with silvery-blonde hair stood up in front of Gilbert. He smiled at the small child. "Hello. I am Frederick the Great. You must be Prussia."
"Ju bet jur briches, grandpa!" the albino snorted, jamming his thumb back in the direction of his chest. "I am ze Kingdom of ze Awesome Prussia!"
"Grandpa?"
"Ja. Ju're old."
Frederick looked a little taken aback at first, but a moment after, he tilted his head back and started to laugh. "My, my, kiddo. You've got spirit."
Gilbert stared up at the older man in shock, mouth hanging open. Just to mess with him, Frederick placed one hand atop Gilbert's head and the other beneath his chin, clamping his jaws shut. Then, he impersonated the albino's accent. "Ju don't vant to get bugs in jur mouth, do ju? I don't sink it vould taste very nice..."
Prussia huffed and folded his arms over his chest, giving Frederick a mildly dirty look that was followed up with an adorable pout. From this moment on, they knew they'd become the best of friends. What little Prussia forgot was that he was immortal... and Frederick was not.
After that incident, the only thing Prussia would call his King was Old Man Fritz.
Ten years passed. Gilbert had done a lot of growing up. He went from a twelve year old's body to a nineteen year old's body, and for this, he knew he owed Fritz a lot. Because of that bag of bones, he was finally an adult. Bright red eyes glistened in the light and he glanced over at the older male. "Hey, ju! Vake up, vould you?" the Prussian teased. "It's so unawesome to fall asleep ven ve're discussing boring military stuff!"
"Sorry, Prupru," Fritz replied jokingly, easing himself back in his chair, yawning and stretching.
"Don't call me Prupru, ol' man Fritz!"
"Don't call me old man, Prupru!"
"Hey, I said stop!"
"You stop and I'll stop!"
"No, ju stop!"
If Gilbert was crying before, it had really made itself known now. Fritz was gone. He had been for a little over two hundred years. "Mein gott, vat vould he say if he could see me now?" the albino choked, rubbing the back of his hand against his tear stained cheeks viciously. "Pr-Probably call me Prupru und mock mein accent und zen tell me I look really unawesome."
1740 jumped to August 17, 1786 and Prussia clung to Frederick's calloused hand. "Ju can't leave me, too, Old Man Fritz!" he sobbed, hiding his face behind the older man's arm. "I can't lose ju, too!"
Weary blue eyes met dazzling red and for a minute, Fritz felt alive, ready to jump back up on his horse and order another war against Austria, despite the peace treaties that had been signed. However, that quick burst of strength dissipated and he again fell back into the jail cell of his own mind. "It's been a nice run, hasn't it, Gil? A glorious run..."
"Nein! Nein! Ju can't go! Stop saying such stupid sings! Zere's still more for you!"
"I have to, Gil... You know I do... Just know, my son, that it was not you who served me, but I, who served you... You will forever have my loyalty, Kingdom of Prussia... Farewell, my son... Ich liebe dich..."
Gilbert looked up from the cloth of Fritz's shirt, eyes wide with horror.
Fritz's hand fell from his...
And...
Gilbert pressed his right palm to his face, heart aching at the memory of losing Old Man Fritz, the father he never had. At least, not until 1740.
Now, in the 21st Century, all he yearned for was the affection of a man who could love him like a son, just like Fritz did. He also yearned for the love of a woman, but who would want someone so... pathetic? "No one," he whispered.
And I'll be wearing white when I come into your kingdom
I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger
I've never known the loving of a family
But it sure felt nice when they were holding my hand
There's some folks here in town, say they'll love me forever
Who would have thought forever could be severed by
The sharp knife of a short life
Well, I've had just enough time
Gilbert took his place in front of the battered and broken Holy Roman Empire. "Step avay, Francis. Ju may be mein freund, but I von't allow ju to take zis child's life."
"Non, Gilbert! You are mistaken! I wasn't going to kill 'im!"
"Zen vat vere ju doing viss him, France?! Playing 'stab a boy?!' If ju veren't going to kill him, vere ju going to take him hostage, or vere ju just going to let him bleed out so ju couldn't be ze one to blame?!"
"Non, I-"
"Ju, vhat?!"
"I-"
"Vhat?!"
"I don't know..." the French male replied, eyes fluttering towards the ground in shame and embarrassment.
"Zen I vill be taking him..."
Prussia knelt down beside the small boy, taking little, chubby fingers into his large, gloved hand. Then, he carefully pulled the small nation into his arms. When he was standing up again, he cradled Holy Rome to his chest with one arm, and cleanly pulled his sword out with the other.
The atmosphere grew heavy with silence, and the tension only grew thicker. Prussia watched France for a moment more, and when he realized that the blonde wasn't going to make another move against him, he shiethed his blade. "Where will you go, Prussia? What about 'is friends?"
"His mind is broken, Francis. Ju can sank jurself for ze most part on zat. I vill go back to ze same place I came from and I vill raise him..."
"But 'ow?"
"I'll unify several independent states, and have him reborn as somevone new. He von't be ze same, but at least he von't die..."
And with that, Prussia took his leave.
If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
Gilbird cheeped at Gilbert, bringing his owner back to cruel reality. "Oh, ja! Sorry, Gilbird! I forgot zat ju vere zere..."
The little chicken cheeped again, before hopping closer to his Gilbert's neck. The little chick was soaked to the bone, fluffy yellow down now sticking to his skin. Being the protective man he'd grown up to be, Gilbert instantly pulled the chick into his hands, cradled him to his chest, and headed for anywhere that would shelter him and his little friend from the harsh rains.
Aside from the brief war with Austria over Holy Roman Empire's rebirth as Germany, there were no other major spiels in the beginning. Whenever someone did try to attack little Germany, Prussia would intervene, and, bursting with great power, he would overpower his enemies. He eventually merged with the blonde, losing his distinctive identity, although he still remained a country of his very own.
Like the albino, Germany grew quickly. Far too quickly for Gilbert's liking. All the good times he shared with his little brother suddenly turned rotten with the idea of the second World War. Germany became corrupt with the idea of power, and Gilbert could only watch as the world was plunged into another period of chaos.
His brother was the root of the evil, and though he totally disagreed with what Ludwig was doing, he fought alongside him.
In 1932, Prussia was non-officially abolished.
In 1939, Hitler took away Prussia's ability to participate in political activities.
And in the end...
Prussia's loyalty to Germany led to his imminent demise.
In February of 1947, the Allied Council stood around the four main countries in the Axis Powers.
Alfred, Arthur, and France stood beside each other, talking in low whispers and nodding their heads in agreement. China and Russia listened in, occasionally saying 'yes' or 'no' in their native tongues. However, something was said that made Russia's smile darken. He turned to look at Prussia and he touched his lips.
Prussia's eyes widened. "Vhat's going on?!"
"On this day," Arthur began in his thick, North London accent, taking a pile of papers and setting them in front of himself, "the Allied Council hereby announces that the Kingdom of Prussia is officially dissolved. It will never, by law, be able to be recreated."
A penny for my thoughts, oh, no
I'll sell them for a dollar
Prussia smiled bitterly at that final memory. It faded in a burst of white light. But he could still hear the pleas from his younger brother, begging them not to do it, that it was his fault and not Gilbert's, as Arthur shoved that same stack of papers in front of him. Papers confirming Prussia's dissolution.
Naturally, Gilbert hadn't wanted to sign his name at the bottom. Neither had Ludwig, but they did. And with the signatures from Alfred, Arthur, Francis, Ivan, and Yao, Gilbert stood up and turned to leave. "Wait! Prussia!" Russia called, only to have the albino turn on him.
Already, the bright, ruby red eyes were being replaced with violet. He looked beyond defeated. He still, however, gave everyone his signature cocky grin. "Zat's not my name anymore, Russia," he replied. "I'm not a country anymore... I'm just..mein awesome self now!"
Since that day onward, Gilbert had distanced himself from everyone. Francis, Antonio, Roderich, Elizabeta... even his own brother.
They're worth so much more after I'm a goner
Gilbert advanced towards his home, where he knew Ludwig was likely waiting for him.
The long walk back resulted in shortened breaths that were becoming harder and harder to come by. His chest started aching more and more and he closed his eyes, praying to God that it would stop soon.
And maybe than you'll hear, the words I've been singing
When Gilbert found that the house he and Ludwig shared was empty, he sighed and advanced towards his room. Once there, placed Gilbird on the bed, and made his way to his closet, where he pulled out a small, violin case. He opened it up and pulled the precious instrument out to find that, with further inspection, it was still playable, but horribly off key.
So he sat there for about thirty minutes, getting it back in tune.
Than, upon standing up, he placed the violin on his shoulder and began playing a song he'd grown to love. Even if it wasn't Prussian, he was happy to say that America did have one awesome song, no matter how sad it was.
Funny when you're dead how people start listening
He began singing along in a melodic voice as he played, but he opted on changing some of the lyrics and leaving other parts out.
"If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river, at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song, uh oh, uh oh
Lord, make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my brother
He'll know I'm safe with you when he stands under my colors
And life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no
Ain't even grey, but he buries his family..."
Prussia stared at Napoleon with a rough, accusing look. He was against the other male being here at Fritz's grave, especially after Prussia's army was defeated in battle.
"The sharp knife of a short life, and
I've had just enough time
If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
The sharp knife of a short life, and
I've had just enough time
And I'll be wearing white, when I come into your kingdom..."
Prussia slid on his Teutonic Knights outfit for the first time and admired the way it hugged his body. He felt so strong, so untouchable.
"I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger,
I've never known the lovin' of a family
But it sure felt nice when they were holdin' my hand,
There's some folks here in town, says they'll love me forever, and
Who would have thought forever could be severed by..."
Fritz looked up into Prussia's eyes from where he lay. A small, sad smile grew on his face and he gently squeezed the nation's hand. "We will meet again..."
"...the sharp knife of a short life, well
I've had just enough time
A penny for my thoughts, oh, no, I'll sell 'em for a dollar
They're worth so much more after I'm a goner
And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'
Funny when you're dead how people start listenin'."
By this point, Prussia was finding it harder and harder to breathe. He didn't know it either, but several people now stood behind him, listening with tears in their eyes. All he knew was that in this moment, he was still here and he would waste his breath singing his life away...
"If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song."
For a brief period, Prussia's voice grew stronger.
His mind reeled now. Everything he had, at one point, forgotten, slammed back into him full force, and his playing on the violin only grew more vivacious. His body swayed with the music and he closed his eyes, tears sliding down his cheeks.
Everyone who was watching him stood there in shock, disbelief clouding their features. They never even knew Gilbert knew how to hold a violin, much less play it. They definitely wouldn't have guessed he could sing, too. But there was a lot people didn't know about him.
"If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song."
"Little demon!"
"Kill him!"
"Throw him into the lake and drown him!"
"Burn him at the stake!"
"He just won't die! He truly is a demon!"
"Look at those red eyes! Such a disgrace!"
"That pure white hair is wasted on him! He's no angel!"
Prussia glared at Hitler as he hauled Fritz's body off, daring to hide it in a salt mine so the Allies couldn't bomb his body. Although he was happy with the gesture, Fritz wouldn't even need to be moved if it weren't for the Nazi leader.
Prussia cried out in pain when an arrow plunged itself through his chest. "...Hun...gary..." he hissed, whirling around.
Prussia slid the Iron Cross necklace over his head, before he dropped it down, allowing it to hang proudly on his chest. "Ja! Looks good!"
Francis restrained Gilbert so he couldn't move, and began to dump wine on the albino's head. Antonio stood in front of Gil, wiping the liquid off as it streamed down his friend's face. The last time they laughed together...
So many memories. So little time. They were all blending together now.
"The sharp knife of a short life, well
I've had just enough time.."
Suddenly, Gilbert felt above and beyond weak. Even though he knew his time was pretty much up, he was determined to finish playing the song. After all, Roderich had scolded him for never finishing something he started... The least he could do was finish playing this song...
If I die young... bury me in satin...
Lay me down..."
In the end, however, it turned out he just didn't have it in him...
His lungs failed him.
His heart stopped. The faint beat of it was not enough to keep him alive anymore.
Germany raced to his older brother's side, and before Prussia hit the ground, he caught him in his arms. "Bruder! Bruder!" Ludwig yelled, eyes widening and tears falling as he sank to his knees with Gilbert's limp body. "Nein! Nein, bruder! Ju- ju'll be fine! Just don't give up! Veneziano, go get ze phone! Kiku, grab somesing for me! A towel, vater! Anysing! Roderich, Elizabeta! Everyvone else, just do so-!"
Ludwig was cut off when a cold hand made itself apparent on his cheek. He looked down into the dull, lavender eyes of his older brother. "...Goodbye, little Luddy..." Prussia cooed, eyes fluttering shut. "We will meet again, mein bruder... Ich liebe dich..."
...The next time Prussia awoke, he was standing over his body and looking around thoughtfully at everyone... "Are you coming?"
The albino's eyes widened and he spun around on his heels. That voice... Could it be? "Old Man Fritz?!"
The man stood their in perfect health, a faint golden glow embellished around him. He took Gilbert's hand in his own, and started to gently tug him along. Blue eyes shone brightly. "Come on, son. There's another awesome adventure out there for you! I'm sure you're going to love it! I've been waiting so we could go together, my son!"
Gilbert smiled happily and followed after the man he called his dad. "Ju said awesome, finally! Zat's so awesome!"
Then, Gilbert hugged Fritz tightly, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Hey, Prupru, what's wrong...?"
"I'm so happy..." he whispered tearfully. "So happy zat I get to see ju again, even if it did mean zat I died young..."
Funny when your dead how people start listening
(So I just want to say that I had a lot of fun writing this. Yes, I know I skipped a lot of the history in it, but, pfft- you don't realize how long this oneshot would be if I put all of Prussia's history in it. Also, I have a headcanon where Prussia's eyes turn violet when he dies. So, da. That's why that happens. Again, this version of 'If I Die Young' is not the original version. It's a male cover of it.
Also, you guys need to check out an AMV for Prussia that I pretty much got this idea from! Search up If I Die Young Prussia and go for the video uploaded by ixApples, if you haven't already. Anyways, thanks again for reading. owo And have a fantastic, virtual day.
Prussia: I still don't understand vy ju killed ze awesome me...)