"Elizaveta."
She kept walking.
"You don't know what you're doing. We need to talk this through some more."
She stopped and turned to face him sharply.
"What more is there to discuss?"
He had no answer.
She started walking again.
"...Elizaveta..."
She stopped again, but did not turn around.
"...Ich liebe dich..."
She seemed to pause, but only for a brief moment, as if considering the statement she had heard so many times recently in the past few weeks.
But, her feelings remained the same as they had always been whenever he said those words, something she hadn't realized until a few months ago.
She felt nothing in return.
She continued walking.
As she did, she did not hear the soft, choked sobs of the nation behind her, or see his hand clamped over his face, as if trying to prevent any emotion from leaking out.
And as he stood there in front of an elegant house that had once been filled with happiness and love, he could not see the tears flowing freely down her cheeks and staining her green dress as she tried to remember a time when, and if, she had truly loved him.
Glass shattered into slabs and shards that exploded into powdered diamonds as they crashed to the floor.
One small shard ricocheted off the tile and sliced into his pale skin as it flew past.
He didn't notice.
He picked up another bottle and downed half of it in one gulp as his elbow slammed into the counter to support his body weight.
The bottle sailed through the air in his hand and hit the counter at full force, sending beer into the air and back down again, splattering the once-spotless kitchen.
She was gone.
And it was all that bastard's fault.
Never even loved her.
What a dick, he thought, and with another swig finished the bottle and sent it flying at the wall for the 8th time that night.
It shattered with a crude, violent sound that echoed off the walls of the empty house and clattered to the floor in what was beginning to be a pile of broken glass.
As he forced himself off the counter to get another bottle he slipped in the small pool of beer and blood that he had not noticed slowly forming below his right foot.
He didn't even have time to think before he hit the crystal shards with full force.
Roderich woke up on a cold floor.
He stood up and looked in the mirror at the red tile-marks on his face.
"Ugh..."
He was in the bathroom and he looked like Gilbert after Elizaveta attacked him with her frying pan.
He gripped the counter as a wave of nausea hit him.
He ran his tongue across his lips.
Beer, salt sweat, and vomit intermingled to form a taste that made him run for the toilet.
He leaned over the porcelain bowl until he had emptied the contents of his stomach.
What had happened last night? he asked himself as he ran a hand anxiously through his sweaty hair.
Suddenly he remembered.
"Elizaveta," he said aloud.
"Elizaveta." He stood up.
"Elizaveta!" Too quickly.
He tottered and had to lean on the wall to keep from falling.
The room spun around him.
He swallowed.
"Elizaveta!"
He let his head fall to his chest as he sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.
What had he done wrong?
He gripped the doorknob.
She couldn't have left.
She didn't even take anything with her.
She would have to come back.
He turned the knob.
Wouldn't she?
He took a deep breath, and opened the door.
A scene of destruction lay out in front of him.
Chairs, couches overturned, pictures knocked off walls and other decorations along with empty bottles of beer and broken glass littered the floor...
Had he done all this?
No way... He would've never knocked his portrait on the ground; it was one of the most exspensive paintings he owned.
Gilbert.
He must have gotten drunk again and gone on a rampage of some sort.
"Gilbert!"
He waited for a reply.
Silence.
"Gilbert!"
The bastard's probably passed out somewhere, lying in a puddle of his own vomit, he thought.
He walked down the hallway, following the trail of debris.
He stopped when he got to the music room and looked through the doorway.
He gasped in shock as his eyes fell on the horrendous sight before him.
The overturned furniture, the broken vases, even his beautiful portrait being knocked to the ground he could deal with, but this, this was too much.
His piano, his beautiful piano, had been nearly demolished.
One of the legs had been broken, causing the beautiful instrument to fall on its side so that the only damage Roderich could see from where he was standing were broken pieces of wood and wires sticking out in all directions.
He was too terrified by the idea of what he might find if he inspected any further, and with one very deep and controlled breath he calmly left the room.
Once back in the hallway his back slumped into the wall and he slid down to the floor with a mournful cry as his head fell into his hands.
"Why?!" He moaned into his palms as he choked back sobs.
No.
Not his beautiful piano.
Not his baby.
That was the last straw.
Gilbert had gone too far this time.
He immediately stood up, replacing his look of despair with one of anger and stormed down the hallway towards the kitchen.
He's probably still passed out in there with a beer in hand...! Roderich thought.
He burst through the kitchen doorway and had been prepared to yell when he stopped dead in his tracks.
On the opposite side of the kitchen were drying splatters and trickles of beer running down the wall, leading to more beer and a massive amount of broken glass scattered all over the tile floor.
And on the floor, lying in the broken glass and a pool of dark red, a single pale arm stuck out from behind the island counter obstructing his view.
He stared at the messy scene for a moment, then asked in an almost cautious tone, "Gilbert?"
Everything was silent.
Was that red...
No.
It couldn't be.
He forced himself to start slowly walking over to the far side of the kitchen.
When he got to the island counter, he slowly peeked over the edge.
And gasped.
This was the 21st time her phone had rang today.
Not that she'd been counting.
What did he want?
Well, she knew what he wanted but...
She didn't expect him to call this many times in a row, especially just in the past two days.
She really thought he had a little more pride than that.
She jumped as the phone rang again and shut her eyes in frustration.
He was giving her a headache and she had enough going on in her head already.
Didn't he know that she felt bad too?
It wasn't like she had wanted to do this, she just couldn't live like that anymore.
Besides the obvious fact that he was a persnickety, prim, pompous, aristocratic, little twit of a man, she couldn't live with herself lying to him day after day.
Day after day she said she loved him, kissed him, cared for him, so much more...
But after a few decades, she began to ask herself,
Did she really?
She kept trying to ignore the feeling of doubt, to fill the growing emptiness in her chest with love from someone that she no longer felt the same for.
But it wasn't working.
She couldn't take it.
So when the day finally came for their leaders to end their "marriage" she was relieved.
But Roderich wouldn't let her go so easily.
He proposed that even if they were no longer officially "together" as countries, they could be together as people.
He was still too blinded by his own love to see that she didn't feel the same.
What could she do?
It would crush him for her to leave him now; she couldn't bear to see him sad.
So she had decided to stay with him, but just for a little while until she had worked out a way to tell him how she felt.
A "little while" turned into the next 50 years.
She liked to do things on her own, and having to share the job of running an empire with Roderich and doing things his way half the time had made her come to hate him.
Now that they were running their own countries and could keep their work-life separate from their home life, they argued a lot less.
Elizaveta started to think that maybe she had been wrong about her feelings and that she should give Roderich another chance.
She really thought she had fallen in love with him again...
...and then Gilbert showed up.
Ludwig had been getting more and more fed up with him, especially since the end of World War II, and he had finally kicked him out.
With only his useless, old Prussian money and nowhere else to go, he went to the only other people he knew.
Of course, as soon as Roderich opened the door and saw the pasty white former nation with a bird on his shoulder and two suitcases full of mostly beer standing on his front porch in the rain, he slammed the door right in his face.
But Elizaveta felt bad for him.
"He may be a douchenozzle, but he's still a person." she told Roderich.
And when he still refused she whacked him with her frying pan and let poor Gilbert in.
Within the first few minutes she already regretted that decision.
Besides now having to share her home with an extremely annoying, self-righteous asshole, after Prussia moved in she began to consider her feelings again.
Day after day she watched Austria constantly tidying up after Prussia's messes and yelling at him for pretty much everything he did.
And as she did she began to realize his actions more and more.
He even yelled at her a few times over the tiniest little things, and was constantly criticizing her whenever she tidied up the house.
Had she really let her feelings blind her again?
At first she refused to believe that she of all people would let that happen to herself, but eventually she came to accept the fact that she had tricked herself into thinking she was in love with him.
She had been with him for so long now though that she was afraid to leave.
It would kill him, she just knew it.
And after such a long time she was used to living with, eating with, sleeping with another person.
She wasn't sure if she could just go back to living on her own so easily.
So she had stayed, and endured, until she finally couldn't take it anymore.
And now here she was: sitting by her phone, contemplating whether or not she should pick up if it rang again (and she was sure it would).
"*sigh* Why did he have to fall in love with me?"
*RRRRIIIING!*
If I don't pick up eventually, he'll never stop, she thought. So I guess I'll just answer it...
"*sigh* "Hello?..." she spoke into the receiver.
"...What?
He's-
No.
...What?!
..What?!"
She hung up and ran outside.
The hospital was cold and she had to slip on her cardigan to keep from shivering as she walked to the front desk.
She asked for the room of the person she had come to see and the receptionist instructed her to take the elevator to the 3rd floor, make a right, and go into the 2nd-to-last door on the right at the end of the hallway.
In the elevator she saw a little boy with blonde hair and deep blue eyes holding his father's hand. She smiled as she remembered Holy Roman Empire and almost forgot to get off on her floor.
Once on the 3rd floor she quickly walked down the hallway and peeked around the doorframe of the 2nd-to-last room on the right.
A curtain obstructed her view of the patient, but on the wall inside the room was a dry erase board with his name on it under the word "PATIENT".
She walked slowly over to the curtain and cautiously pulled it back.
She almost gasped aloud at the sight of his sleeping body.
Bandages were wrapped all the way around his head above his eyes and his right eye had a patch of gauze taped to it.
His arms were cut up too, and she was afraid to think about what the rest of him looked like.
Roderich hadn't been able to tell her very much on the phone except that Gilbert had been drinking the night before and now he was in the hospital.
"Oh, Prussia, why do you always have to go off and be an idiot?" she wondered out loud.
She laid the small bouquet of white hyacinth flowers she had brought on the bedside table and looked over at Gilbert's face.
He looks so deceivingly innocent when he sleeps, she thought. Like a child..
"Oh!" she gasped when she saw blood soaking through the bandage on his head.
She pressed the button by the bed to call for a nurse and was about to leave to get a vase for the flowers when she bumped into someone.
"Oh, Elizaveta, hallo," said Ludwig and apologized for bumping into her.
He looked over to the bedside table.
"Did you bring those?" he asked her.
"What? Oh, the flowers... Yes I brought them..." she replied. "I was just about to see if I could find a vase..."
"Do you know how long he's been out?" he asked.
"No, I just got here as well..." she said. "If you don't mind my asking... What... Happened to him?"
Germany sighed, "Well, he was being an idiot, as usual, and drinking too much. He started throwing bottles and smashing them against the wall. There was glass everywhere and I imagine he just tripped."
"Oh, lstenem*..." she said covering her mouth with her hand and closing her eyes in exasperation. "What am I going to do with you, Poroszország*..."
Just then the doctor walked in.
"Are either of you two married or related to him?" the doctor asked in German.
"I am his bruder." Germany replied.
The doctor turned to Elizaveta and said, "I'm sorry, but if you're not married or related to the patient I'm going to have to ask you to step outside for a moment."
For a second she thought about saying that she was his wife so that she could hear whatever the doctor had to say, but instead she just nodded and left the room.
She walked back down the hall and took the elevator to the first floor gift shop.
She quickly found a perfect vase for the hyacinths and was headed for the register when she spotted something out of the corner of her eye.
It was a tiny, yellow baby chicken toy almost as big as her palm. She walked over to it and picked it up.
"Hello, would you like to have a new friend?" she asked it.
She looked at the chick and it looked back at her.
She smiled and went to the cashier counter to pay for her things.
When she got back to the 3rd floor and walked into Gilbert's room the doctor was gone and Ludwig was sitting in a chair across from the bed with his head in his hands.
"Is something wrong?" she asked as she filled the vase with water from a sink.
"He's in a coma." Germany said solemnly. "They don't know when he's going to wake up and they might even have to perform surgery on part of his brain if he has a hope of ever waking up again."
"What?!" Elizaveta said, nearly dropping the vase. "How risky is the surgery?" she asked with slight worry in her eyes.
"...There's a 50/50 chance that something could go wrong or...worse." Ludwig said, looking at the floor.
She looked over at Gilbert and thought about him not being there– here, on Earth– ever again.
She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head to chase away the horrible thought.
Even though he is a real jerkface, I would never want him to... She couldn't bear to finish her thought.
She sat the fluffy little chicken next to his head on the pillow and put the vase of hynacinths on his bedside table by the window.
Awkwardly, she sat down on the couch next to Ludwig and looked at her shoes.
C'mon! Say something! She told herself.
"...I left Austria." she said slowly, the words feeling strange in her mouth. When they were "together", she had always called him Roderich.
Whenever nations call each other by their human names– and they rarely do– it's either because they are extremely furious with one another, or they love one another deeply.
She felt the guilt building up inside her chest again as she thought of all the years she had cheated him of by making him think she still loved him.
As if he could read her mind, Germany said, "It's not your fault."
They sat there in awkward silence for a while until he finally broke it again.
"I mean, I understand how hard it is to leave someone when you know they still care about you very deeply." Germany looked out the window as he spoke, seeming like he was back in another world.
"...Thank you." she said after a while.
They sat like that, in peace and quiet until Germany said he had to leave to go meet someone.
They said their farewells and Germany assured her that he would be visiting the hospital at least once every day and to call him if she needed anything.
She nodded and told him the same as he walked out the door.
And then she was alone.
She didn't want to leave Prussia like this, but she was also afraid of Roderich coming to visit him.
She wished she could ask the doctor more questions about his condition, but she wasn't affiliated with him in any other way besides being his...
Friend?
Enemy?
What were they even?
They had known each other since they were kids, and they had always fought, whether it be over something stupid or something serious, like land.
She kind of hated him, to be blunt.
Like, really hated him.
He was so annoying and loud and vulgar and obnoxious and possibly the world's biggest egomaniac.
He was the complete opposite of Austria– well, aside from the self-righteous part.
So why did she care about him anyway?
I guess it's just because I've known him for so long... she thought.
She looked over at him and laughed lightly.
What I wouldn't give to see the look on his face if he saw himself in that hospital gown, she thought.
Poland probably wouldn't mind though... she thought and laughed again.
Well... I guess I should be leaving now...
She quietly left the room and went into the elevator.
When the doors opened on the first floor, her heart nearly stopped when she saw who was waiting to get on.
Roderich stood there with some flowers of his own and tried to avoid Elizaveta's gaze as he quickly walked into the elevator.
She was relieved when the doors finally closed to take Austria up and out of her sight.
And as she walked through the 2 sets of sliding doors at the entrance to the hospital, she wondered, Could she ever be friends with him again?
I hope Gilbert is okay... Roderich thought as he walked into the cold, white hospital.
He wrinkled his nose as the stench of chemicals filled his nostrils.
I hate hospitals.. he thought. They're cold and depressing and there's nothing but germs everywhere...
He asked the receptionist at the front desk which room Gilbert Bielschmidt was in. The woman instructed him to go up to the 3rd floor, take a right, and go down the hallway to the 2nd-to-last door on the right.
He nodded and thanked her and headed for the elevator.
Grimacing, he pressed the elevator button that was surely crawling with germs and immediately pulled out his handkerchief to wipe off his fingers.
He put it back in his waistcoat pocket just as the elevator doors opened.
And standing there, in the elevator, was none other than Miss Hungary.
She stared at him for a fleeting moment and he quickly looked away as they walked past eachother.
He could feel his heart pounding painfully in his chest as he watched her walk towards the hospital entrance until the cold metal doors of the elevator slid shut.
With a ding! he arrived on the third floor, and following the woman's instructions he walked down to the 2nd to last room on the right of the east corridor.
And there he was, lying in bed like the lazy oaf he was.
/His wounds are worse than I thought/, thought Roderich as he looked over at Gilbert's tightly wrapped head and eyepatch.
He sat down on the couch facing the bed and almost as soon as he did a doctor walked in.
"Excuse me, sir, but are you a relative or spouse of Mr. Bielschmidt?"
Austria thought for a moment.
Well, I'm sort of his cousin, aren't I? I mean, we're both descendants of Germania, so technically that makes us related, right?
"–Yes." he replied to the doctor rather quickly. "I'm his cousin, but we're like brothers."
/Why did I say that?! I didn't need to say that!/ thought Austria.
"Well, Mr., um–"
"Edelstein. Roderich Edelstein." he finished.
"Er, yes, Mr. Edelstein..." the doctor said. "I'm afraid I have some unfortunate news."
"What is it?" Roderich asked a bit nervously.
"Well, thanks to his increased drunken state, his body was not damaged as much as it could have been and most of his skeletal injuries should heal quickly because when a person is intoxicated their joints are looser and their bodies are more limber and flexible."
"So what's the bad news?" he asked with a concerned look on his face.
"Well, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but one of the shards of glass entered his brain causing him to go into a coma. When we removed this glass we are afraid we might have further damaged his brain, but we had no other choice than to take the glass out. Now, if he's going to have any chance of waking up we'll have to perform surgery on that part of his brain."
"Oh, Gott*..." Austria whispered, realizing how serious Gilbert's condition had become.
"There's a 50/50 chance of him coming out of the surgery with permanent brain damage... Or worse. But if we don't do it, he will most likely remain in a vegetative state for the rest of his life."
Austria looked down at Gilbert's sleeping form.
Now look at what you've gone and done to yourself, he thought. Ludwig and Elizaveta must be worried sick...
That's when he noticed a tiny stuffed chick next to his head.
"Hey, do you know how long that has been there?" he asked the doctor pointing to the stuffed animal.
"Er... I think a girl that came in earlier put it there..." he replied, looking over at the baby chicken.
Elizaveta. Austria thought.
"When do you think you'll have to perform the surgery?" He asked, returning his gaze to the doctor.
"We need to do it as soon as possible to prevent any further damage to the brain, so probably in 3-5 days." the doctor said.
"And... Any side effects?" Austria asked.
"There's no way of knowing until after the surgery." replied the doctor. "Everything could go fine, and he could be back to normal within a few weeks; or he could have such serious permanent brain damage that he might have to learn to walk or talk again; or it might not work at all, and he could remain like this for the rest of his life."
With that, Roderich thanked the doctor and told him to inform him whenever they planned the day he was going into surgery.
With a loud sigh he sat back down on the couch and closed his eyes.
What am I going to do? he wondered.
Roderich felt like his world was crumbling around him.
Elizaveta left him, his house was a wreck, his precious piano had been nearly demolished, and now Prussia was in a coma, with a 50% chance of being in it for the rest of his life... Or worse.
On the bedside table he saw a vase of beautiful white flowers.
Elizaveta too, probably, he thought.
He stood up and placed his flowers in the vase next to the white ones.
He inhaled their scent deeply.
Hyacinths, he thought.
They were meant to symbolize healing and prayerful intention*.
I wonder if his eye is permanently damaged.. Austria thought as he looked over at the gauze taped over Gilbert's eye.
I should have asked the doctor...
Since he more than likely wasn't going to wake up anytime soon, there wasn't much to do but sit there.
So, being Austria, Roderich spent the remainder of his time in the hospital walking around the room and tidying things up.
Once he was satisfied with the room and had used his handkerchief to rid his fingers of any germs, he walked over to Prussia.
"Du verdammter idiot*," he said looking down at him. "And you make such strange faces when you're asleep..."
With one last look at the sleeping former-nation, Austria left the room
.
When she got home, Elizaveta looked up the risks of neurosurgery.
Systemic paralysis, permanent memory loss, and the development of certain mental disorders were just a few of them.
I really hope everything goes well... she thought.
It was roughly three and a half hours to drive from the hospital in Austria to Udine, Italy.
When Germany arrived at the address stated in the text he had received he wondered if it was the right place.
It just looked like a pair of wooden doors set into a stone wall, certainly not like the fabulous restaurant that had been described to him.
Looking down at his phone to check the message again, he realized how late he was and hurried inside.
Once inside he could tell it was a restaurant, but it still looked nothing like what he had been expecting.
"Benvenuti* Al Vecchio Stallo!" greeted the hostess with a smile.
'The Old Stall'... Germany thought. Well, the name is fitting...
Looking around the small place he quickly spotted a familiar figure waving from a table against the back wall.
When the hostess asked how many were in his party he told her in broken Italian that he was here to meet the gentleman "over there" and pointed to where the man was seated.
She smiled and grabbed another menu before walking him to his table.
"Hi Germany! Isn't this place just magnifico*?" Italy eagerly asked with a smile.
Looking around at the homely decor Germany slowly replied, "Ja, ja..."
"It's one of my favorites! They have the most delizioso* traditional pasta!" Italy exclaimed.
Ohh, I see... So it must be the food that makes this place so great... Germany thought.
"So, what are you going to order?" asked Italy.
"Oh, um..." he hadn't even begun looking at the menu yet.
As soon as he opened it, he was overwhelmed by all the choices, as he always was at restaurants (especially Italian ones).
To make matters worse, the menu was handwriten almost illegibly. And even though he spoke pretty fluent Italian he couldn't recognize many of the item names.
"I always get cjalsons, but you would probably like frico better because of the potatoes!"
"Ah... Alright, if you suggest it..."
Germany said as he tried to decipher the menu.
"Hoo-ray! I just know you'll love it, Germany!" Italy exclaimed.
When their food was finally brought to them Italy leaned over the table expectantly as Ludwig took a cautious first bite.
"Mmm...mmm!
...This...is delicious!" he exclaimed with a shocked look on his face.
"Ve~ I knew you would love it! I'm glad!" Feliciano smiled.
They both scarfed down their meals and when the waitress came by to clean off the table Italy quickly whispered something in her ear and she smiled before hurriedly taking away the rest of their dishes.
"Ahh... I don't see how you can still have the energy to hit on women after such a filling meal..." Ludwig groaned. "Hey, Italy... Why did you invite me here today anyway?"
Italy's smile faded a little.
"...You still haven't remembered yet... have you..?"
"What?" Ludwig asked, surprised, as he immediately faced Italy.
"It's okay, it was a long time ago..." Italy said with a bittersweet smile as he looked down at his lap.
W-was?! Germany thought as he wracked his brain trying to think of what could possibly be so special about today.
Italy's birthday was back in March, Liberation Day was in April, Republic Day wasn't until June, and it certainly wasn't his birthday, so what could it be?
Just then, the waitress came back carrying a small cake with two forks and a sparkling candle on top.
She smiled brightly as she set it down and then left.
So that's what he was whispering about! Germany thought. Desserts are only for special occasions here, and this is tiramisu!
"Today is the anniversary...of the day we first became friends." Italy said with a small smile.
"What?" Germany asked, still confused.
"Al Patto d'Acciaio,*" Italy said. "We signed it 73 years ago today, March 22."
Mein Gott! he mentally slapped himself. How could I forget that?!
"I..I'm so sorry Italy... I can't believe I didn't remember..."
"It's ok... Let's enjoy our desert!" Italy said hurriedly changing back into his normal, cheery self.
"No... It's not..."
the German said as he looked down.
"No, really! It's fine!" said Feliciano quickly as he made wild hand gestures. "Buon anniversario di amici! Let's eat!"
"D-danke...*" said Ludwig shamefully as he picked up his fork.
And with that, Italy blew out the candle and they slowly devoured their dessert.
Translations (sorry if any are incorrect as I am not fluent in any of these languages):
Hungarian-
lstenem- God
Poroszország- Prussia
German:
Bruder- Brother
Gott- God
Du verdammter idiot- You damned idiot
Ja- yes, yeah
Was- what
Danke- thank you
Italian:
Benvenuti- welcome to–
Magnifico- magnificent
Delizioso- delicious
Tiramisu- a rich, Italian, espresso-infused, cake-like treat literally meaning "pick-me-up" usually eaten on special occasions
Al Patto d'Acciaio- The Pact of Steel
Buon anniversario di amici!- Happy anniversary of friends!
Credit:
To Hidekaz Himaruya– for the awesomeness that is Hetalia
To for all translations