so, this is my first fanfiction. I am really really sorry if its awful!
disclaimer: I don't own hetalia,which is good because they would all be dead by now.
The war was over. Done with. Sure, we had lost. It's not like we deserved to win anyway though. In fact, weak as I am I'm glad its over with. Thinks can only really get better, right? The three of us-Germany, Prussia and myself are sitting, awaiting judgement in a simple but bright enough room. Germany is taken off, god only knows what will happen to him. Prussia is called in, the allies want to speak to him. I wonder why, he's really only a state. I cross my legs, more than a bit worried. He was so weak...weaker even then me and that was pretty bad. Sure, we had fought. Tried to kill each other for years. And yet the mere thought of the man I hated getting weaker was hard. The door to that room bangs open and prussia who seems little more than a rag doll stumble in. To my alarm he kneels at my feet, and looks up at me. "specs" he says this ever so weakly "they dissolved me...completely. Utterly* his eyes squeeze shut, trying to hold back tears. I gently touch his face and say "that makes no sense...you had little to do with all that!" his eyes open, dazed and not their usual shade of vibrant scarlet "they blame me for everything." in terror, I touch his face. "you are not...for long then?" his weak nod of the head nearly pushes me over the edge, but I keep calm. I go on. "but how? You are so full of life...not power"! He says, with his eyes still closed "I was at least...I'll miss meddling with you Austria". I start, he rarely calls me anything other than specs. Afraid, I whisper sweet comforts that really are a lie. He opens his eyes and just a bit of his old look comes back. "you sound like and old woman!" not wanting to go that road, I offer help. He,with a spark of hope to him replies."I want to hear you play, one last time. Surprised, I help him up. He has always claimed to hate my playing after all. But still, i help him along. He is so weak, I am nearly carrying him. We are in France's house, and I find a piano in an overstuffed drawing room. I rest him down, the weak little thing in gilt chair. He weakly says "please" in a way that rends the heart. then I sit at the glossy piano. I am unsure what to play, but at once a though pops into my head and I start playing adaptations of Fredrick the greats flute pieces. He looks up, tears filling his eyes "I wonder if I'll see him again...I have missed him." I say nothing, trying to pour it all into this lovely and sad song. He goes on weakly,"that would be lovely..." I complete the song, and he calls me over. I rush over and sit by him, he flops onto me. He look then at me, his eyes steady yet faded and flickering. "Austria. I hate you. Yet I love you! I want to see you, broken by my own hands. But I also want to see you happy, smiling and eat one of those cakes you love...your smile is sweet, you should use it more". I smile weakly, hoping it would help. there is no happiness in it, of course. "perhaps you will see all that". His eyes shut "you know...I won't.." I hold him worriedly, as words seem to come harder. I cradle him close, and soft in my ear he says "see you later specs..." and his body goes limp. A peaceful look, far more serene than any he had worn in life settles over him. I watch, my tears hitting that calm yet empty face. only the nighttime hears me now, and it to slips on to dawn. I look out to the eastern window, and I see the sun rising. But really, without the smirking man it wasnt even. It was just bright,nothing more. God only knows when day will come again...but it will, right?
