Title: 10th Man Down
Author: sithmarauder
Pairing(s): Switzerland/Austria
Disclaimer: Hetalia and its affiliated characters are not mine, and never will be. I also don't own the song.
Again, I have no excuse: I started writing this at 2:00 AM exactly on a Sunday night because I can't sleep and the idea just… pestered me. After finishing this chapter, I promised myself that I would post it on Remembrance Day, no matter the state. So I am sorry.
Expect sporadic updates. I'm busy as fuck. In addition to that, no, I'm NOT going to take as long with this as I am with Divided We're Falling. That one's only taking forever because, as stated many times before, it was not supposed to be a continuing thing, and I'm still not sure what path I want it to take. Also, yes, my grammar's a little wonky, for which I apologize. The rating will also be changing eventually.
With that said, please enjoy part one of an estimated ten-chapter or so story.
-x-
It was always the waiting. The long hours consisting of staring blankly at the wall, contemplating when and if – if and when.
The piano room was empty – of course it was; it had been ever since Roderich had left.
It didn't make sense to the Swiss man: why would his piano-playing, music-writing lover be summoned to the front of war as opposed to him – he, who had actually trained in combat and was more than proficient with both rifles and pistols? Of course he knew the answer: he wasn't indigenous to this country, nor was he even an official citizen, so they couldn't make him enlist, by law. The choice was always open for him, of course, and every single time he walked the streets of Vienna woman gave him disapproving looks – even going so far as to award him with tokens of his supposed 'cowardice' , like a white feather – but he didn't care. He had made a promise, and he didn't intend to break it.
"Big brother?"
Vash Zwingli looked up, the customary frown present on his face, as it had been for two months now. When Roderich had first been called away, the Swiss man had spent the first sixteen days wrestling with insomnia, the fear he never allowed himself to show in the daylight gripping him by the heart and shaking his insides until he was left gasping at the ceiling. It was so… empty. The large bed with its vast expanses of plush white sheets was almost like a prison cell now, holding him in and rendering him unable to move.
Vash growled just thinking about it. He hated this. He hated Roderich fucking Edelstein for making him feel like this. And he hated himself for hating Roderich, because, as Vash reminded himself, it wasn't the Austrian's fault.
"Big brother?"
Instead of just looking up, the Swiss man looked over at the source this time, tilting his head to the side as he saw Lilli, his half-sister, and one of the main reasons for his staying behind.
"Yes?"
"Are you all right, big brother? You look so tired."
Vash stared. "I'm fine," he said hotly. Lilli gave him a solemn look and reached out, placing one of her hands on his where it rested on the hand-carved wooden table.
"Okay," she said before withdrawing, closing the door softly behind her.
Roderich had been gone for almost two months by this point.
On 12 March, 1938, Austria had been all but voted into Nazi Germany (and, more specifically, the Third Reich), an action known to Vash only as Anschluß (Anschluss). And while Vash didn't know much about it himself, he had become used to hearing his lover-and-secret-husband talk quietly to him about the great pressure coming from Germany and even from within Austria itself for the Heim ins Reich movement. After all, Germany had 'helped' the Austrian National Socialist Party seize power from the Austrofascist leadership they were currently subjected to, and many of the citizens…
Vash shifted. The whole matter had caused Roderich to be uneasy for awhile, but it still took a couple of years before the official takeover. And when Germany invaded Poland on the first of September, causing France to declare war on the attacking country, Vash and Roderich had only listened blankly to the radio.
The Second World War had begun, but it would be more than a couple years before Roderich himself would be called to the Front.
So they had tried to keep their lives going as usual, despite the overwhelming pressure from the government. They had received guests, but were even more careful to hide their relationship than before. After all, Jews weren't the only people being persecuted. One of Roderich's friends, a Spanish man named Antonio and his husband, an Italian Roderich had called Romano, had been rounded up by their local Nazi Division, and they had yet to hear any word of them.
Under Hitler's rule, people deemed "unworthy for life" such as homosexuals, disabled or mentally ill people, Freemasons, Romani and Jehovah's Witnesses, were rounded up and taken to special Concentration Camps, and were often never heard from again.
It was an unspoken rule between the two that no one in the household would mention the camps. But he guessed that didn't matter now, did it?
Standing up and stretching his arms lightly, Vash glanced at the clock that sat on the polished mantle of the fireplace. It was late, he knew, and he should be getting some sleep now.
With this thought in mind, the Swiss man made a break for the staircase but froze when a sharp, no-nonsense knock reverberated through the foyer.
Roderich's house wasn't small. The Austrian was an acclaimed pianist, after all, and had made enough money for them all to live comfortably for a long time. Their house, large and white, with dabs of gold, was easy to spot from the streets of Vienna, but…
Lifting his chin, Vash narrowed his eyes and walked over to the door, swallowing the fear in his throat.
"What is it?" He snapped upon opening the door, only to see a stern-looking blonde soldier standing in front of him. Sure he was paling visibly, Vash's eyes darted quickly to the man's arm, but when he saw there was no red band, he relaxed his hold on the pistol hidden under his jacket.
"Ve~ Ludwig, I told you this was the house!"
Vash knew Feliciano Vargas, as Roderich had mentioned the youth had lived with him when the Italian had been a very young child, Roderich being only three or four years older. But he didn't know the stern looking German looming in front of him, and so, bracing himself, Vash scowled angrily.
"What the hell do you want?" he snapped, half expecting a reaction. When he didn't get one from either of them, his anger quickly turned to irritation.
"Is this the residence of Mr. Roderich Edelstein?" the German asked gruffly.
"Of course it is, Ludwig~ I told you that," Feliciano said, his voice chipper, but not nearly as much as it usually was.
"Who is he, then?" Ludwig replied.
"Ve~ That's Vash, Roderich's friend."
"I'm watching his house for him; a favour for an old friend," Vash growled, using the story he and his husband had thought up just in case a soldier or someone asked why he was living in another man's house. Ludwig looked at him critically, seemingly judging his story, before pulling out an envelope and handing it to him.
"Then I am sorry."
"No…" Vash stared at the envelope in his hand, slowly ripping open the seal.
We regret to inform you that Mr. Roderich Edelstein has been reported missing in action, and is presumed dead.
A scream worked its way up to the Swiss man's throat, but he refused to voice it. Instead, he swallowed roughly, the feeling something akin to eating gravel. They had agreed not to write to each other, as it was common knowledge that the letters were censored so as not to reveal military secrets, so he hadn't… He couldn't… he hadn't even known.
"Then how the hell am I supposed to know if you're still alive, you idiot?"
"As long as you don't get a telegram, you'll know I'm fine, Vash. Besides, I'll still be able to come back on leave, right?"
"When?" The blonde asked, raising burning green to meet cool blue and distressed amber.
"A week ago."
"Why the hell wasn't I notified then?" Vash snarled. Ludwig inclined his head, but said nothing. Vash's eyes narrowed, and his fist closed over the paper, crumpling it as he whipped out the pistol, his finger on the trigger. "Why wasn't I notified?"
The German's eyes flashed. "It wasn't one of our top priorities. The army deals with this stuff constantly, especially with the recent losses we've been suffering against the Allied Forces."
He was, Vash knew, referring to the devastating attack this past June 1944.
The attack that had happened a week ago.
Roderich had gone missing on D-Day.
-x-
"You're sure about this?"
A grunt was the only response, and Vash initially refused to meet the green eyes that looked at him imploringly. When he did, however, he saw only glowing understanding in the eyes of the young Hungarian woman.
Elizabeta Héderváry had been Roderich's first wife – a cheerful, kind woman who was never afraid to defend her friends with her deadly frying pan. Before the war had become too serious, Roderich had often said that, "If Elizabeta was able to join the army, this war would be over by Christmas."
Now Vash could see why Roderich said that – beneath the exterior was a woman who would fight to the death for those she cared for, even if it meant bringing harm to her own person.
That was why he was leaving Lilli with her.
His sister was looking at him with soft eyes, and she quietly reached out to grab his hand. "Come back soon, brother," she said with a sad tone. "And bring Mr. Edelstein with you."
Vash started, but he recovered nicely before pulling his cap down over his face. "I promise, Lilli."
"Don't worry about her – I'll watch her. If anyone asks, she's my distant cousin from Liechtenstein!" Elizabeta said fiercely, and Vash forced a stuff nod.
Then he turned around, slung his rifle over his shoulder, and walked away.
He had enlisted. Against his husband's wishes, he had enlisted, and left Lilli in the care of the Austrian's ex-wife.
He would find him.
And Vash prayed to God that Roderich would be alive when he did.