Even though Prussia had grown older, had faded off the map as a country, and lived the life as a nation whose time to die was long ago, Frederick II still loved him so much. Even though the albino can no longer lead a magnificent army with the black eagle flag waving proudly towards the sky, Frederick II still, very, very much so loved him. He didn't care that the ex-nation nowadays wasted his time pranking his neighbors and gloating about his awesomeness in front of a mirror, because Prussia was still his boy.
Hey, Old Fritz, how's it going?...
"PRUSSIA, YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW! I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL BEAT YOU WITH MY VIOLIN!"
It wasn't uncommon to hear Austria's bellows travel down the street, nor was it uncommon for a string of triumphant guffaws to accompany those angry shrieks.
"Catch me if you can, Piano Prick!" Prussia's reply broke his laughter for but a moment, and not until he had run a good distance did he finally slow to a jog, then a complete stop. His legs were burning and his lungs felt about ready to explode, but that huge obnoxious smile on his face did not hide the pleasure of seeing that aristocrat freak out from the classic "fake cockroach in the cupboard" prank. Sure, it was one of the most outdated tricks in the book, but luckily for Prussia, Austria happened to be outdated and very much quite terrified of anything small and creepy-crawly.
...I know you're listening to me up there, because, after all, you can't ignore an amazing guy like me...
"Hey, Junior?" Prussia's quiet voice was loud in the evening silence. It was odd to hear the albino sound so sincere, but the little puff of yellow feathers fluffed at the familiar and soothing affection. "Hey there, June Bug, you're not too scruffed up, are you? I didn't expect Austria to react to quickly." His deep chuckle sent vibrations through the little bird's puffy body. "You gotta admit, though, his face was stinkin' great, right?"
"Junior" twittered and pecked affectionately at the finger that petted him.
"So, which do you think was better, him screaming like a little girl or him looking about ready to piss himself?"
Another tweet.
"Oh yea, totally lucky that Hungary wasn't there." Prussia shrugged and cocked his head to the side. "But, hey, she's gonna get word eventually, she always does. I formulated an awesome plan to avoid her this time. I swear it on Old Fritz that she will not pan me over the head for this! Here, listen to this..."
...You'd prolly rather not listen to an old guy like me, I bet you're chilling with Ancient Greece and Egypt and both Roman Empires...Oh! Hey, if Germania's there, tell the old man I said hi!...
Frederick II loved his Prussia so much. He always made sure to follow his wishes and kept an eye on him, just as Prussia asked very often. He knew he couldn't necessarily play a guardian angel in his position, but he could at least be just a guardian of some sort and keep him company, as well keep his self esteem in its pleasantly inflated state. After all, with self confidence came came the lack of fear to face brick walls head-on.
Prussia quietly stepped into the house, he and his Junior not making a peep. When the back door creaked open, the sun had barely set behind the distant cityscape and left the sky a darkening sapphire color. The lights were off in the kitchen and living room, which meant that a certain fussy blond was probably shut in his office upstairs.
He quietly tiptoed up the steps and around the corner, and just when his winning smile spread across his face, he was face-to-face with a pair of very bright and very pissed blue eyes.
Neither man said a word as the little bird burrowed into Prussia's head and peeped, as if cheering Prussia on to worm his way out of this one.
"Hey, West!" Prussia finally said, his chest swelling in manly awesomeness. "You're looking fine tonight! You with your PJ's and muscley-ness and..." He poked Germany's chest. "...and your muscley-ness. And stuff."
"Dinner was two hours ago."
Prussia was unphased by the glare he received and waved a hand in nonchalance. "Pfft, I'm not a kid, West. I can take care of myself. I mean, just look at me!" He slapped a hand against his chest. "I'm just a picture of amazing awesomeness. Who would I be if I couldn't take care of myself?" A tweet came from atop his head. "See, Junior agrees with me! Ain't that right, June Bug?" He cooed and petted the little bird.
Germany's tapping foot was barely audible. "Did you forget about the part where I said I would make dinner tonight? That I wanted you home by six?" He let out a huff. "You were the one who bugged and prodded me into it and you didn't even show up. You were lucky that Italy was over to eat most of it."
A snort came from the older brother and he waved his hand again. "Well, turned out that I wasn't that hungry and I was in no rush to get home. Besides, I raided Austria's fridge before messing with his dignity, so you don't need to worry about feeding me tonight."
"...You did what?!"
...So, yea, not much to really say since all I did was lay around and watch some of Spain's soap operas before giving our favorite maestro a visit...
Getting Germany out of his hair was a real challenge, but because Prussia was made of win, he was able to squirm away from the angry German's grip and excuse himself to bed. Frederick II enjoyed spectating the little fuss between the two, and since he knew that his boy would prove the winner in the end, he just hung on and kept his head down.
Now with the last obstacle out of his way, Prussia was finally able to hide in his room and dive into bed, but not without performing some nightly rituals. Because he already bugged Austria, he couldn't leave a prank phone call on his answering machine, so he just posed in front of his mirror, updated his journal, then proceeded to piss himself off with some Brain Age (he had a conspiracy theory that Japan gave him the game just to prove that he wasn't cool, but Prussia will make that stupid Asian eat his thoughts!). Lately he had been trying to figure out the secret to Sudoku, and he told himself to give a certain Korean a call about their weekly "Sudoku Can Go Fuck Itself Therefore It Doesn't Originate In Korea" club meeting.
...and yea, that's about it. Maybe tomorrow I'll have more important and better stuff to tell you, even though you probably don't want to hear about it 'cause, hey! You're watching me up there, right?...
Oh, yes, Frederick II so dearly loved his Prussia, and will always watch his boy like the albino asked every night. He sat on the box spring mattress with patience as he watched him, his pride and joy, kneel at the side of his bed with his head bowed and fingers interlaced in prayer.
It was the same every night; a couple Hail Mary's and a few words for forgiveness (yes, Frederick II was proud of his boy for not completely dropping his habits from the Teutonic Knights years), followed by an abridged report on what he did that day.
"...Of course you are, you're Old Fritz and you're just awesome like that. Not as much as me, but pretty damn close..." A wistful sigh escaped his lips. "But...don't let me wanting to tell you about me stop you from watching me. Just between you and me, I think I'd cry if you stopped looking out for me and all, so don't stop, 'kay? Well, you prolly wanna sleep now, so g'night and amen." And at that, Prussia lifted his head and sat up straight, his red eyes staring out the window into the sky. Frederick II didn't have to look at Prussia to know that he was thinking about his old boss, the old man who he loved the most out of all the rulers of his country, but he still liked to see the look of peace on the ex-nation's face. It was a rare sight that only he – the "amazing" Old Fritz – can see, and he was so damned touched to be the only soul to witness the soft Prussia that very few thought existed.
"Well, Junior, bedtime now. Tomorrow's another day waiting to be influenced by the awesome me, so we should get all the sleep we can." Without bothering to stand up all the way, Prussia crawled under his comforter and pulled the bedsheets to his chin. "'Sides, I wouldn't be surprised if Germany went all drill sergeant on me in the morning, what with that stick that's always shoved up his butt."
With a little tweet, Old Fritz hopped across the bed and settled on snuggling up against his face, his ruffling feathers nearly making the albino sneeze. A finger prodded the bird and he retorted a few words, but they were muffled and lost when his lips refused to work properly.
"Mm, nigh'," were the last words Prussia uttered that night, and if Old Fritz could smile, he'd be beaming a night light, because he just loved his boy so, so very hard.
Fritz!Gilbird is so much love. Highfive if you agree.