I do not own Hetalia or the song Einsamkeit.
Russia remembered clearly when he first laid his eyes on Prussia. The tattered nation stood alongside his weary brother protectively, as
if he had something to fight for. His clothes were ripped and bloodied due to battle. His pale skin and silver hair stood out in the
bleakness of the day. He stood tall and proud near his brother, eyes wild and and feral, daring anyone to get near him. Russia just
stared in amusement. What was it inside the basically dead nation that made him still want to fight, as if he had a chance? Here he
was, surrounded by the allies, thinking he could win. He had already lost. Why was he trying so hard, Russia wondered. He had the
sudden urge to crash that fighting spirit of his. Still, what was it that intrigued him so? What was it that made him so possessive over
Prussia?
Oh yes, now he remembered. It was those eyes. As Prussia glared at the allies surrounding him, his ruby eyes stopped at Russia.
Those eyes filled with such hatred and wrath Russia almost giggled in impish glee. As soon as he saw those orbs of fury the feelings of
possessiveness struck him so strongly it filled his cold body with heat. But this wasn't a pure warmth, it was corrupt, wicked, warmth,
this making his heart into stone. One that would probably never break. What did he want from Prussia? The answer was easy: his
spirit. He wanted to crush that ego, that hope, the stability of his mind. He wanted to see those crimson eyes fill with terror, those
confident broad shoulders hunched over, trembling in fear.
He smirked to himself at the thought. A new playmate? It sounded fun to Russia. He was getting bored of Lithuania, Estonia, and
Latvia. They were fun to tease, but they were too scared, too silent. He needed a challenge. Maybe Prussia would want to play with
him? But Russia could only wish that Prussia won't misbehave in his stay. We don't want any kids who can't play nice, da?
Loneliness
Loneliness
Loneliness
I want to be found.
The first thing Prussia felt was the cold. He shivered, curling into a ball. It was then he realized that he was lying on cold ground. He
heard iron shackles clang against the hard floor due to his movement. His eyes lifted open, revealing his surroundings. He was in
underground somewhere, assuming from the stairs in front of him, out of his reach. The walls were made of gray stone, not doing
anything to keep the cold out. His midnight blue army coat was gone, leaving his black pants and a white shirt, which was stained
crimson with blood. Chains were attached to his hands and feet. There was a little bit of slack, leaving him a few feet to walk. As he
struggled to stand, he immediately fell back down, dizzy with pain and blood loss. He looked for a window to see what time of day it
was, but there were none, confining him to the darkness, all except for one dimly lit candle lodged on the wall.
He tried to remember. What happened before this? Then it all came flooding back to him. Him and Germany's loss, the allies surrounding
them, the damned wall being put up, his brother betraying him. Prussia felt his fists tighten. He took deep breaths. That can't be true.
My own bruder would not turn his back on me. Something must have happened. Prussia then remembered something else that made
him shiver. Right before he fell unconscious, he remembered seeing a bloodied pipe and cold lavender eyes. Russia.
The sound of rushed footsteps echoed throughout his prison, pulling him out of his thoughts. A man of medium height with brown hair
down to his shoulders and timid green eyes darting back and forth in fear appeared from the staircase, a tray in his hands. Who was
this? Prussia struggled to remember. Oh right, Lithuania. Russia's lap dog. Lithuania gave a shaky smile to Prussia before walking to
him and setting the tray down.
"You should eat, you need energy." Lithuania suggested gently.
Prussia looked down at the food put in front of him. There was a small loaf of bread set on a napkin. Prussia poked at it with his finger
and noticed it was cold and hard. He pushed the tray away in disgust. He wasn't usually picky since he was used to low quality foods
from the battlefield, but being in unknown territory made him cautious.
"You really should eat, after all of that blood loss you need nutrients." he said, frowning.
"Where am I?" Prussia asked, ignoring Lithuania's request. He already knew the answer, but he still had to know for sure. He still had
hope that this could all be a nightmare, that he actually wasn't in this hell.
But Lithuania's expression told him otherwise. He looked down and stared hard at the ground, a deep sadness behind those hazel
eyes.
"You are in Russia's house." he replied stiffly.
"Why?" Prussia asked calmly, although in the inside he was screaming.
Lithuania gulped. "You are currently not a nation anymore...Russia now has custody over you..."
Prussia's heart stopped. No longer a nation? Does that mean...all of my people are...gone? It was too terrible to be true. All of the
battles, victories, losses, and history his nation had made are gone? Such a great nation such as Prussia is obliterated from the world?
Then why was he still here? Why was he still here? Why was he existing? Shouldn't he...disappear? For a second, an unfamiliar wave of
fear rushed through Prussia. Then he felt what he usually felt if something was wrong: anger. He always used anger as a replacement
to weak emotions such as sadness and fear.
"Where is he? Where is Russia? I want to see him right now! The awesome nation known as Prussia will never die! Call that pussy
down here so I can kick his ass!"
"You called?"
The voice that called from the top of the stairs made Lithuania and Prussia go frigid. Prussia shook it off. "Get your ass down here and
show your face like the big nation you are!" Prussia challenged.
He stayed silent as the heavy clank of boots echoed throughout the room. Immediately Lithuania paled and rushed up the stairs,
murmuring a "Good day Mr. Russia, sir." before disappearing. Prussia scoffed. Coward. Finally Russia appeared, looking the same as
ever. The same trench coat, same white scarf, same violet eyes, same childish smile that was so damn irritating. Prussia gritted his
teeth and clenched his fists, seeing red.
"Get me the fuck out here! Get me out of these chains so we can fight like any real country would do. You fucking coward!" Prussia
spat.
Russia only smiled, moving closer to Prussia until he was right in front of him. He kneeled down, then gently caressed the ex-nation's
cheek. Prussia pulled away quickly, glaring at the Russian. Expecting it, he paid no mind.
"Fight like countries? You are not a country anymore, little one. And I'm afraid I can't let you go, rebenok. You belong to me now."
Russia said it so gently, yet his tone was icier than a blizzard. Prussia growled and spat in the big nation's face.
"Don't call me rebenok! I am not a child!"
Russia didn't even flinch at the contact of saliva, before calmly wiping it away. Then a look of rage changed his childish features, making
even Prussia wince. He slapped the Prussian with his hard knuckles, sending Prussia a few feet across the prison, his chains restraining
him from going any further. Russia stood and looked down at Prussia, a look of glee flashing in his violet eyes before kicking the nation
in the stomach with his army boots. Prussia just laid there, silent as he curled into a ball, grasping his stomach in pain. Russia stared,
satisfied. His eyes seemed to read, have you learned your lesson?
"Dammit...I won't let you win." Prussia uttered. Russia's eyebrow raised.
"Still saying that, rebenok? When will it get in your head that from now on, your winning days are over?" Russia aggressively grabbed
Prussia's silver hair, forcing his ruby eyes to look into his lavender ones. "You came here to die."
Prussia half-heartedly pushed him away. "West will come to save me any day now...than I can leave this hell."
Russia smiled tenderly. "Oh my dear Prussiya. Your brother has abandoned you. Germany was one of the people who had decided your
fate with me."
Prussia glared at Russia. "That's not-" Before he could finish his sentence the sound of someone screaming his name echoed
throughout the prison.
"PRUSSIA! Where the hell are you?!"
Prussia gasped before slamming his fist down on the floor. "You have Hungary?! You bastard! Release her!" he tried to punch Russia
but he dodged it easily. "You can hurt me just not her! You heartless dick!"
Russia shook his head, thoroughly enjoying his pet's rage. "I don't think so, rebenok. However, if you continue being naughty, Russia
will have to punish her as well."
For once, Prussia stayed silent. The feeling of fear hit him so strongly he could not reject it. He wasn't scared, he was terrified. Terrified
of dying alone in this hell, terrified of what could happen to his friends, terrified of what could happen to his brother, terrified for his
people. It was all too intense, it hurt too much. Prussia was not used to feeling helpless.
Watching Prussia falter made Russia smile in satisfaction. He walked away, leaving Prussia alone to the darkness. His work was done.
For now.
Just be strong
Through loneliness.
History: This fic represents the end of WWII when Germany was split, the eastern part of Prussia now being owned by the Soviet Union.
Why must I be so cruel to torture one of my favorite characters of hetalia?! But for some reason I also like it... This was my first time
writing Russia, did I do it well? I hate making him the bad guy, but I just had to. This is my most angsty fanfic yet. I feel really
depressed now! I'm now going to have some ramen and watch anime... Please review!
Rebenok: Child
Prussiya: Prussia in Russian
Einsamkeit: Loneliness
