Stand in the Rain
By: Asagi Tsuki
Pairing: PrUK
Warning: OOCness (I can't be sure of this one), and forgive my lack of language diversity (I can only speak American English -_-;;;;)
Disclaimer: I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia
A/N: somewhat of a songfic. My team used this song for a dance performance a couple of months back and I must say I like this song very much. I hope I don't fail this. The song is titled Stand in the Rain by Superchick
I have a sudden rush of inspiration and quite a lot of time to spare, hence the many uploads. Two more songfics will be coming after this, hopefully. I'm trying out a new style of songfic after this, and am currently trying out a new style of writing, incorporating more important dialogues than just idle chats. I don't know if I managed it though
Enjoy, anyway :D
Stand in the Rain
Arthur quickly packed his things, almost throwing them into his suitcase with abandon, which was rare for such a neat freak like him. Once he was done, he locked his bag and strode out of the conference room without as much as a second glance to his fellow nations who were still lingering around, chatting with each other.
But never with him.
True, he talked to the others on several occasions, but only when it was necessary for them to do so. Other than that, they would rather be with their own friends than with the island nation.
He walked past the lobby of the hotel where they were holding the meeting, nodding whenever a staff greeted him. His eyes were fixed forward, and he was so focused he didn't see anyone walking from beside him and bumping into him.
"Oh, I'm sor—Gilbert?" Arthur asked in question as he stared at the former nation. "What are you doing here? You're not—"
"—a nation anymore, I know."
"Actually, I was about to ask whether you were invited here by Germany."
"Anyway."
"What are you doing here then?" Arthur asked again, raising an eyebrow in question.
"Why are you in such a hurry, eh?" Gilbert asked as he huffed. "You look like your dog is admitted into the emergency room."
"I don't own dogs."
"It was metaphorically speaking."
"I was going home," Arthur said. "If you'll excuse me."
"I won't."
"Excuse me?"
"I won't," Gilbert repeated. "You have no one to return to, do you? Come with me for a while."
"What are you—"
"I know you," Gilbert said slowly, making sure no one else heard. "I've seen you. Again and again. Holding back tears because you know you can't stop once you start."
Arthur was about to say something, but stopped when Gilbert looked at him pointedly, as if challenging him to deny what he had just stated. He looked down at his boot-clad feet, avoiding Gilbert's piercing gaze because he knew it was true.
The reason why he was always rushed was because it provided him a distraction from letting all the burdens he was bearing crash down on him. Whenever he was alone in his room, just thinking of what had happened, what would happen, and what he had done or had to do, depression set in.
And that was when he fought his hardest to keep his tears from rolling.
"What are you, a stalker?"
Gilbert smiled a little and placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder, squeezing it tightly.
"Come with me. I'll save you."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Arthur stared at the letter his boss had given him. It was a proposal from America's boss to establish a special relationship between them. In it, they said that they wished to properly thank England for the help by giving them more benefits than any other country who has an alliance with the United States.
"Tell me what you think of it," was his boss' last message to him before he went back to his office. He knew Arthur would take long before he could come to a decision.
"Oi, Earth to Arthur!"
Arthur's head snapped upwards as he jerked slightly, but relaxed when he saw who it was. He folded the letter and was about to put it in his drawer when Gilbert stopped him.
"What is it about?"
"Nothing."
"You don't go nuts over nothing."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You look paranoid. What made you so scared?"
Arthur's breath hitched slightly at the accusation. He sighed and placed the letter down, letting Gilbert take it and read the contents.
"Special relationship, huh?" he scoffed as he shook his head. "Well, what have you got to lose? It's time that you stand up tall again."
"No, I can't."
"Yes, you can."
"You don't understand."
"I do understand."
"I can't do this Gil," Arthur said softly.
"You don't have to fight alone, Art," Gilbert said reassuringly, squeezing both Arthur's shoulders. "You're not alone."
"I don't know," Arthur said, still doubtful. His eyes were all over the place, but on Gilbert. "If I stand, I'll fall down again. I don't know if I can withstand the fall this time."
"Don't be stupid," Gilbert said, squeezing tighter. "You never fell."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Arthur lay on his bed, staring at the plain white ceiling blankly. He had just gotten home from another conference and another argument with America. Everything he said seemed to contradict what Arthur had said on purpose, just to anger him.
"If I stop coming to these blasted conferences, will anyone care?" Arthur asked angrily to himself, narrowing his eyes into a glare.
"Don't be stupid. You're England," Gilbert said calmly from the chair beside Arthur's bed, taking another gulp from his bottle of soda water. "You can't just disappear without anyone asking."
"Maybe I should swap places with Peter," Arthur commented bitterly.
"Hey," Gilbert said, nudging Arthur's side with his knee. "Don't be so bitter. It'll get better soon."
"So you say," Arthur said, turning to face Gilbert. "Don't you feel angry for being voted off as a nation? I—I was one of them, you know. Why don't you hate me?"
"I don't need to. You already hate yourself enough for the both of us," Gilbert said, propping his feet up on the bed. "Seriously though, you can't be like this forever. You know that you can't run, right?"
"I want to give up."
"Don't. You must fight for us."
"I don't want to."
"But you have to."
"Will I ever get out of this problem?" Arthur asked as he sighed and closed his eyes, turning to lie on his back on the mattress again.
"Of course. But you have to stop running, because the way out is through what you're running from."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Arthur stood in the middle of the pouring rain, looking up through wet bangs sticking to his face. The sky was dark and thunders roared in the distance, but he didn't move an inch.
"What are you doing out here?"
"Reminiscing."
"A loss?"
"Maybe."
Gilbert looked at Arthur silently, then looked up as well, ignoring his hair matted against his head and face. The rain got even harder, but none moved.
"You know, you used to be so strong."
"And I am not now?" Arthur asked as he chuckled darkly, directing his gaze onto Gilbert who was staring back at him. "I've lost everything, Gil. Even my family rejects me."
"Did that stop you before?"
Arthur paused, taken aback.
"You stood your ground whenever and whatever happened. What happened to the winner within you?" Gilbert asked, looking at the other pointedly. "Don't just mope around in the rain. Stand your ground."
"I might slip and fall."
"But you won't drown."
"What if I never get up?"
"You will. Maybe you also will find what you've lost."
Arthur looked back up into the sky, thinking about what Gilbert had just said. What exactly had he lost ever since the Revolutionary War? Was it love? Admiration? Strength? Authority?
Arthur looked back at Gilbert who was content on letting the rain wash away every dust and filth on him, closing his eyes and humming happily. He then smiled himself.
Maybe, he hadn't lost it after all.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
"So what do you say?" Gilbert asked with a grin. "I know you have your magical friends, but it doesn't hurt to go with a fellow nation once with a while, eh? I promise I will save you."
"No," Arthur said, and Gilbert's face fell slightly. "You've already saved me."
What is Lost can be Found
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