The Keeper
The door was, in a single word, menacing.
Sure, it looked like any other door in Austria's house. But that, he thought, is exactly what it wants me to think.
Beneath it's innocent façade, it was, without a doubt, an impurity that stained the spotless house, a black mark. For behind that door was the unspeakable, a jumble that had no place but in his nightmares.
With a deep breath, Germany steeled himself and yanked the door open.
If one were to walk in on that precise moment, they would be greeted by a curious sight. A burly man, steadfast, serious, stood still and straight as cuddly toy after cuddly toy showered upon him from the small storage cupboard.
Germany's eyes remained stubbornly shut until he felt the last soft toy bounce off his chest.
Filled with apprehension, he finally willed himself to look at his surroundings. As he had anticipated, his feet were lost in a sea of items. But he hadn't expected the toys. From the cushiony texture that had crashed against him he had expected pillows, or bundled sheets.
Because why, sweet Jesus, did Austria have a cupboard filled with cuddly toys?
He felt a blonde eyebrow twitch with annoyance. Austria, the so-called aristocrat, was a strange one.
No one was around to question about this strange find, the owner of the house having stalked out the door throwing a snarky 'If you're staying here you might as well clean' behind his shoulders.
Germany, partly out of boredom and partly out of malice, had complied. Not only was the house (give or take an evil, toy spewing cupboard) clean, but it was also completely reorganized. Watching the Austrian flail about and whine to un-cooperating ears would fill him with a great sense of smugness, he was sure.
But, his master plan of revenge wouldn't have the same effect if Austria returned to see him sitting in a pile of fluff. He would never be able to live it down.
Huffing, he picked up a white bear that had fallen on top of the pile. One of its eyes was falling off and its fur was patchy and greying with age. A blue ribbon drooped around its neck, and its mouth was sown into a Mona Lisa smile.
"…Karl…?" Germany spoke in disbelief.
Karl the antique teddy bear stared back. Its one healthy eye seemed to shine with joy at their reunion. Germany could almost hear the bear's ghostly voice, thick with tears, crying out his name.
This bear had been his. A gift from his big brother, back in the days when he had to stay with Austria and watch his brother's back walk away from him to fight in yet another honourable battle, something to ease his loneliness.
He had been through an awful lot with Karl, one not seen without the other before he had been whisked away from his bed, the bear lying alone between ruffled sheets as he glanced back at Austria's grand home for the last time.
That had been a long time ago. But Karl had never been forgotten by Germany, perhaps pushed to the dark corners of his mind, overshadowed by politics and never-ending trouble, but never forgotten.
Now Germany was sitting on the pile of plush toys, Karl in his hands.
With a sight, he heaved himself back to his feet, the bear tucked under his arm. So Austria had kept Karl, alongside the other toys, painstakingly carting them from house to house.
Silently, Germany placed Karl on a chest of drawers to his right. One by one the toys were picked off the floor and placed with careful precision on the shelves in the storage cupboard. There were many, each greying with neglect and missing a button or two. Yet in the back of his mind, he saw each of them as what they were: a memory, a legacy of a child that had once stayed with Austria. And each was treated with the respect it deserved.
He placed them all back in their original place -neatly, mind. People have the right to open storage cupboards without being attacked by an army of toys.
With a content sigh, he stretched his stiff arms. Germany would let Austria keep this one piece of familiarity.
Turning, he saw Karl waiting patiently on the drawers. He smiled at the bear, picking it up gently. Savouring the soft feel of Karl's fur, he placed it by the other toys.
Karl stared at him, a silent plea. Germany placed a hand on the bear's head, staring back.
"I didn't forget you." He stated. "And I never will".
With that the door was closed.
Germany didn't open it again, but he knew that the last thing he saw was Karl, smiling a true smile, and letting a tear roll down his patchy cheek.
"I need some coffee," he sighed.
A/N: Huh. Look at that, it's a (cheesy) fanfiction.
It's messy and unedited, and I haven't read it over once, but IT'S A FANFICTION.
FINALLY, THERE IS SOMETHING ON THIS ACCOUNT
Yeah. I hope you enjoyed this… thing.