Promise

"I'm dying."

It was not a question, not a woeful fear being spoken aloud, it was fact. There was no hesitation, no fear, just two words spoken under the cool, soothing whisper of logic, of reality. No matter how upsetting it was to his companion, it was truth, and one could not escape truth.

"You shouldn't say things like that."

"It's true."

"No. It isn't."

"Do you think it'll be quick?"

"What?"

"My death. Do you think I will pass quickly?"

"You are not dying."

The man lying in bed turned away from the other to stare out the window, looking completely calm and peaceful.

"Look. There's a bird on the windowsill. What kind is it?"

"I don't know."

"It's pretty, isn't it? Look how the sun reflects off its feathers."

"It is pretty."

Silence. The two men, brothers, trailed off, each deep in thought, one terrified, the other calm. Always calm.

"I think I would like to be buried in a place where there are birds to sing to my grave. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"You are not dying. You're just sick."

A cool washrag was placed over the invalid's forehead gently. Silence fell over the brother again. One fidgeting with the washcloth, the other stared out at the bird that still sat in the window.

"I am dying. You know that."

"You're not dying. And when you're well again, you'll be embarrassed over how dramatic you're being now."

There were tears in the other's eyes when he said this.

"You're just lying to yourself, you know."

"I-I'm not! You're doing better today than you were yesterday."

"Hmm."

The two brothers lapsed into their familiar quiet, neither one particularly wanting to say anything.

"Will you come visit me often?"

"Where?"

"At my grave. Will you come often?"

"No. You're not dying. You're going to get better."

"Because I would like it if you would come visit me. You wouldn't have to bring flowers or anything, I'd just like it if you came."

"How can you talk like this? Like you've given up all hope?"

"I know I'm being a bit sentimental, but I think it's important for you to know all of this before I go. I don't care if you laugh at me anymore."

"I-I'm not laughing. I…I don't think I could."

More tears were shed.

"It's all right if you do laugh now. I don't mind. I used to mind, but I don't anymore. Odd how things change when you're dying…"

"Please. Just quit talking like this."

"Would you laugh at me?"

"What?"

"Would you laugh? I'd like to hear it."

"I-I don't think I can…Not right now."

The brothers stared at each other for a moment.

"That's all right then. You don't have to."

"I-is there something else I could do for you? Can I get you any sort of medicine? Anything you want to eat?"

"I'm not hungry. I haven't been hungry for a long time."

"Surely there's something I can do for you?"

"Just stay with me. I don't want you to leave me in case I go while you're away."

"You're not dying, dammit! Stop talking like that!"

Blue eyes and red locked in a battle of wills, but the serene pair triumphed, sending the aggressor away ashamed.

"I…I didn't mean to yell at you."

"I know."

An awkward lull came over the two.

"Promise me that you'll stay though. I really don't want to be alone."

"I promise."

The invalid groaned as pain washed over him. He clutched at his side, while pain exploded in his head. He could feel his brother next to him, holding him.

"Don't leave me!" he gasped.

"I'm right here. It's okay. You're going to be okay."

"Ahh! I-it hurts. Gott in hurts!"

"Shhh! It's okay. It's all right. I'm here. See? I'm here."

After several minutes, the pain subsided, leaving him panting and sweating.

"I'm sorry I'm so weak."

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

"You despise weakness."

"You are not weak."

"Yes I am. I'm dying."

"Please…Stop saying that."

"It's true."

"But the truth doesn't always make things better."

Once again, blue found red.

"I-I'm sorry for putting you through this…"

"It's okay. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I've done plenty of things wrong."

"Well, that makes two of us."

Silence.

"Please. Promise you'll come visit me? It doesn't have to be often. Just whenever you're not busy is fine."

"Bruder…"

Tears were streaming from his eyes.

"I would like to know that you'll come. Ahh!"

His eyes scrunched up in agony.

"Shh! I'm still here. It's all right. You're fine. See? I'm here."

"Please! Ack! I-I th-think it's happening…I…I think I'm s-starting to fade…"

"No! You're not! You're fine! You're just fine! Please! Oh God, please don't go!"

"P-promise me you'll come?"

"Oh God, please don't leave me! I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! Please don't go!"

"I'm sorry…"

"No, no, it's not your fault—"

The other began fading, becoming harder to hold.

"I…It doesn't hurt…not as bad, anymore."

"Oh God! Please, don't go! Don't leave me!"

"I'm sorry."

"No, please no! Don't leave me!"

"Come visit me…"

"No! Oh Gott! Bruder! Don't go! Don't leave me alone!"

"I love…"

Silence. He was gone, and pale hands were left grasping nothing but air. Tears streamed from wide, horrified eyes as they looked for the body which was no longer there. He was gone. Dissolved. His brother was dead.

"W-West…"

Crying out in utter agony, Gilbert fell from the bed, onto his knees and cried. He cried openly not caring what he looked like anymore, not caring if anyone walked in and saw him weeping like a child. He didn't care and he just wanted to cry.

The albino sat on the floor, hugging himself, rocking back and forth, feeling much too cold. His brother, his baby brother, the boy he had sworn to protect, was gone. And it was all his fault. He should have done more, should have tried harder to save him, but it was too late. Ludwig was gone.

And now, Gilbert was left alone in his agony, wondering how it had all come to this and lamenting over never having made a promise…

Author's Note: …What have I done? I honestly have no idea what the heck this is… I guess I started thinking about the death of Prussia, and wondered what it would be like if there was a death of Germany fic out there… Why am I so demented?

So…I guess my line of thought for back story here is what if Prussia, being the older brother and the one that created the German Empire, replaced Germany after the Second World War? What if it worked out that the older, more experienced nation always came out on top? Like, since Prussia created the German Empire and Germany, he could basically destroy it, meaning, he became the dominate personification, no matter what, and when his lands were taken, he took Germanys without really wanting to…

Yeah, I know. I'm a terrible person for this… but I sort of always wanted to try out a different writing style, make it sound a bit more like Ernest Hemmingway's "Hills Like White Elephants" and I guess I just really like twisted endings... Ah, please don't kill me for this! And may I be so bold as to ask for reviews? Thanks a bunch everyone!